


Seer

by Adam2810



Series: Animorphs: After the Yeerks [2]
Category: Animorphs
Genre: Aliens, Alliance, Alliances, America, Andalites, Animorphs - Freeform, Cassie - Freeform, Death, Freedom, Hallucinations, Hork-Bajir, Humans, Illusions, Invasion, Ket - Freeform, Ket halpak - Freeform, Madness, Mental, Mental Breakdown, Political, Post-War, Tobias - Freeform, Toby Hamee - Freeform, War, alien - Freeform, andalite, breakdown - Freeform, hork bajir, kelbrid, kelbrids, toby - Freeform, yellowstone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 59
Words: 220,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9439838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adam2810/pseuds/Adam2810
Summary: Taku Kelmut is a Seer, born on Earth in 2009. His race has been recovering well since being freed from the terrible Yeerk slavery, but there are still many challenges ahead. Being a seer, Taku is expected to acheive big things by both his people and the Humans, but when those close to him start to disappear, will he be able to live up to the expectations and save the Hork-Bajir?Along the way, he tackles integration into the Human lifestyle, opposition to his causes, media accusation and the loss of someone close. With the Kelbid war raging in the background, and the Human-Andalite alliance on thin ice, things are about to get very difficult...Features Toby Hamee, Cassie and Tobias from the original series, and is intended to be canon. Questions may remain unanswered here, but further works will run simultaneously with this one.Follows on from AniJen21's Earth Diary of Toby Hameehttps://www.fanfiction.net/s/5893377/1/The-Earth-Diary-of-Toby-Hamee





	1. Chapter 1

**PREVIEW**

I snorted, raising myself from my seat and allowing my tail to get some space. “Negotiations? I’ll make sure that no such thing takes place. I will not allow them to build their roads over my people’s homes. I don’t care what they think of me.”

As I leaned against the desk, he likewise rested himself against the nearest wall. At least by that point he had realised that I was not going to snap at him. “I don’t think Grant will let you.”

“And why not?” I asked, suspecting the answer.

Jonathan shrugged. “Toby was invited. Invited as the governor.”

“But she isn’t here,” I pointed out. “And as the only viable replacement, it is my duty to take her place. I don’t care what Grant thinks. He can threaten me all he wants, but without me in this building, he has no connection with my people for as long as Toby is absent. We strip all ties to this damn centre and we allow nobody into the park. He wouldn’t dare risk that happening.”

“I don’t think he would fire you,” Jonathan replied. “Lot of stress here lately.”

“Because of my interview.” I guessed.

Jonathan shrugged once again, looking to the door. “Partly, you know… But… But mostly Toby and Cassie. They did a lot here.”

I managed to smile, though I doubted that he noticed. “It’s perfectly understandable. Only a week ago, the place was represented by two famed war heroes, both respected worldwide, their faces on posters and books in every store, every library. Brilliant minds and even better leaders who played their parts in rescuing an entire race and bringing them to a hostile new world, only to see the population thrive with near total acceptance from a violent and territorial species. A week later, and they have me.” 

**CHAPTER 1**

   The Sun had briefly emerged from behind a great wall of clouds. The rain ceased about ten minutes ago, leaving the ground and the trees damp to the touch. I would take this opportunity to go off in search of food, perhaps to bring some back for the family if I found the bark worthy. I pulled myself up from my comfortable seating position and stretched, feeling the bones in various stiffened limbs click back into their appropriate positions, having been lax during my many hours of rest.

   I yawned, taking in the cool Earth air and exhaling, seeing my breath form a small ball of steam. Shaking off what was left of the deep slumber that the change in weather had disturbed, I bounded off in search of much needed breakfast.

   From my tall home tree I descended, losing sight of the distant mountains in the horizon that signalled the border of our lands. The sun was now shining elegant rays across the land, casting silhouettes over the ground like loyal companions, dancing as my people did through tall pines and spruces.

   They slowly invaded the land, similarly awoken by the sun’s arrival. My people, young and old, short and tall, emerging from the warmth of their homes, stretching and yawning, yearning to begin a new day.

   I bounced away from home and headed north. I passed great open grasslands, bordered streams that glistened in the light of the sun, and pounced hastily through great armies of trees. I shouted my greetings to passers-by, equally eager to partake of the days finest offerings from trees of such variety and taste, and they grunted back in satisfied but tired stupors that the first hour or so after sleep brought.

   With young muscles I threw myself ever higher into the canopies, bouncing effortlessly from trunk to trunk, my feet, with some deep inner sixth sense, finding and kicking against thick branches that shook under the weight, causing leaves all around to rustle like a chorus of maracas. My hands sometimes caught onto higher, thinner branches, changing my direction ever so slightly, guided by my nostrils that occasionally sniffed at the air, forever searching out the slightest whiff of what I was looking for.

   My body flung forward, and with a thump collided with a large pine, my elbow and knee blades held forward to pierce the skin. They held me in place, and while I sat there amongst the crowded flora, I lifted my snout high, sensing the distinctive fragrance of that which I desired somewhere over to my left.

   Somewhere hidden in the depths of the maze of trees, I spotted just what I had been looking for. A large maple, so far untouched by my people this season, its bark fresh and begging to be harvested. I hurdled over a few branches until I sat high up, surrounded in dense outgrowths that ended in beautifully coloured leaves, snugly pressed to the trunk.

   Pleased with my finding, my tongue lolled from my snout and licked up against the wonderful bark, made to taste even sweeter as it dripped with moisture from the rain. I lifted my arm and sliced down with my wrist blade into the succulent layer. With a wriggle of the arm, a long slab began to pull loose, and eventually came away from the tree with a persuasive twist. The underlying skin of the tree dripped with sap, and I greedily lapped it up with my tongue, before I pulled myself up to a branch sturdy enough to hold my weight. Using the blades on my knees, I was able to cut the long bark slab into small, easily edible chunks, and I threw one particularly appealing piece into my mouth, letting it grow moist with my saliva. The tastes swirled pleasurably through my senses and caused me to smile quite dopily, and before long the bark had softened enough to become chewable.

   These minutes alone every morning provided me with ample time to think, to ponder any current issues that had to be resolved, but today held no such responsibilities. At least, not yet. I had no meetings to attend, no interviews to perform. I had the day to myself, and I planned to use it selfishly, because selfishness was not a pleasure I was often privileged with. I would spent the morning feasting and bringing this delicious bark back for my family and friends, then perhaps I would spend the rest of the day in places I had never explored, meeting new trees and new acquaintances.

   I would finish the day by the campfire that would no doubt appear, and bask in the warm orange glow with those close and those unfamiliar, getting lost in some new story, or perhaps even telling one myself.

   I had plenty of stories to tell. You wouldn’t have thought so, being only three years old, but in those three years I had faced challenges and tasks that no Hork-Bajir should face, visited locations where Hork-Bajir should never wander. I have talked to those whom Hork-Bajir would never usually come into direct contact with. And I am grateful for it all.

   The first few months of my life, however, were no different than anyone else’s, and somehow those are the times that I remember most vividly, despite such a young age. I could even recall in detail my first moments in this world. The first time I opened my eyes.

   I could remember the smells and the noise, the first workings of my senses as I emerged into the world. I was wrapped up, held like I had been stuck in a cocoon, my limbs crossed against my torso, head pressed to my chest. My eyes were not yet open, but around me I heard the urgent rustling of movement, and I felt something warm and living lift me into the air. Two appendages held me tightly, lovingly, providing necessary comfort as my body slowly began to unfurl and awaken. Something cool and dry rubbed over me gently, ridding me of liquid ooze that coated my form. It found its way all over, and by the time it was complete, I had unwrapped from my stiffened ball.

   I was further shuffled around, a frozen breeze connecting for the first time with my skin, causing me to shiver vigorously. However, that was soon dampened, as I was carefully dropped down and a soft, warm surface, and more appendages wrapped around me like bandages. The breeze dropped, and my quivering body regained its warmth.

   The noises around me gifted me further comfort, distant voices that grew louder as my ears adjusted to my new, much more open environment. They were symbolic, organised into some form of language, but they were also soft, almost whispers. I can’t remember well enough how many voices I could make out, but they spiralled from any and every direction.

   There was one voice that was dominant, and it caused the warm surface below me to rumble, ascend and descend. I twitched, kicking my legs out behind me, testing the muscles that had sat in a near-motionless sleep for so long, and I gripped the surface below me with my fingers, causing it to react quite abruptly.

   After a few moments of fidgeting and taking a few heavy breaths, I was able to open my eyes.

   The world around me was strange. So much detail to take in, so many objects to focus on. My weary eyes accustomed to the light, and I blinked repeatedly and rubbed my upper limbs against them, validating their unusual and wondrous existence. I lifted my head clumsily from the surface and bent my neck backwards, looking almost directly upwards at a collection of green moving objects, all starting right back down at me. Overwhelmed, I rested my head back down, closed my eyes, and covered them in a tangle of limbs.

   There was a noise before me, a squeak followed by deep cluck. More appendages shuffled me, and I realised that I was encased. It was warm and comfortable, and I once again opened my eyes to the big scary world.

   Something was looking down towards me, slowly motioning, swaying just barely. My eyes focused on the big green object, but narrowed as a short breeze erupted from it.

   I fidgeted again, but this time moved myself closer, curious. My limbs clutched tightly to the surface below me as I stopped, my face just barely apart from the thing in front of me. Using the rapidly growing strength that my body was gaining, I lifted my neck again, a little higher this time, to gaze into two large eyes staring right into mine. Big red orbs disrupted by a thick slit, bearing down onto me. There was a sudden sense of need, of yearning, and my limbs clutched ever tighter around the creature that watched me. I continued to observe it, and it paid just as much focus back down to me, cooing and purring, its appendages holding me close and protecting me.

   I shivered again as the cold air tugged at the lowest of my limbs, but the protector’s grip around me tightened, pulled me close against the warm surface once more, and I was satisfied. I shuffled forward just enough so that I could rest my snout on the big breathing green object in front of me, looking directly into the eyes behind it.

   The object moved as the closest voice spoke, and the breath that came from it provided yet more heat over my body. By now, my ears had unclogged, and I could make out sounds just as they were meant to be heard.

   At the time, of course, I had no idea what the strange jumble of sounds meant, but I still remember it so clearly now that the conversation seems like one that I was fully involved in.

   The creature that I had laid my snout on was the first that I head clearly. “ _Kawatnoj_ sleep on Pok’s face.” It chuckled, warm breath again curling around my needy body.

   Further laughter around me, audible, but not overpowering. “ _Kawatnoj_ so good. Already want kiss!” Another voice from behind spoke up.

There was more movement to my right. Another figure entered my field of vision, also poking its snout in my direction. “Has Mago eyes. And Mago nose.”

   “Has Pok’s nose.” The protector whispered, gently rubbing my snout with the hard surface of its own. I squirmed a little, and vocalised a whimper.

   The new figure moved forward, and I saw its eyes, too, just as secure and inviting as the protector’s. It rubbed the back of my neck, and gently down to my torso, but a little too hard. I squeaked in retaliation.

   “Not too hard, Mago. Hurt _Kawatnoj._ ” The protector said.

   “But _Kawatnoj_ strong. Healthy.” The second figure replied, now moving closer to the protector. They embraced, all the while still gazing down to me.

   There was a third voice that chirped up from behind us, momentarily distracting the pair’s attention. “ _Kawatnoj_ have name? Little Brother need name!”

   The four big eyes focused on me yet again. Eager for their attention, I reached forward with a forelimb, tugging lightly at a great, sharp horn that protruded from the protector’s head. It chuckled again and playfully pulled my limb away.

   “Need name.” The second figure murmured. “Good name.”

   The protector hummed, vibrating the beak that my head was laying on. “Yes. Need name.”

   I pulled my body closer into the protector’s chest, curling up into a ball and feeling a great sense of security in the view of these creatures. However, I let go of eye contact, curious as to the rest of my surroundings, and already feeling exhausted from the unknown ordeal that I had just emerged from.

   “Have name.” A voice said, the surface that I laid down on vibrating.

   “What name?”

   “Name _Kawatnoj_ Taku. Taku Kelmut.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

   The first few days of my life were spent clinging tightly to my mother’s torso. I took advantage of the care and the body heat that she could offer in the cool climate of our home, and occasionally she would take me away from our tree to explore the local canopies. Even such a small place seemed like a vast universe to my child eyes, filled with trees and the big green creatures that roamed them. It was scary, daunting, and it made me cling to mother even tighter whenever we ventured elsewhere. Eventually, she would start to pry me from her stomach much more frequency and encourage me to explore home on my own two feet. I was able to walk just hours after my birth, which is nothing unusual for Hork-Bajir, and after a while I had gained enough confidence to walk around the home tree unsupervised. Mother and Father were always close by, though.

   “Taku!” My mother called as I shimmied my way up a thick branch above the nest. “Taku be careful.”

   The words were still meaningless to me at that point, but her presence alone turned me back. I grunted and lifted my arms towards her, and she relented to hoist me into the air and embrace me over her shoulder. I clung tightly around her neck, nipping at it lightly with my beak to indicate hunger.

   “Taku hungry again?” She sighed, the vibrations through her neck only making me latch on tighter. I squeaked in validation.

   And that was basically it for that first week or so. Either clutched to my parents and feeding with their assistance, or tentatively mapping out my tree with a child’s enthusiasm. To my parents, I was no different from any other Hork-Bajir (except for the usual claims that I was the most handsome _kawatnoj_ who had ever lived, of course), and that thought would not change for a little while longer.

   They would soon find out that I was in fact something a little out of the ordinary. I hate thinking of myself like that, but there is no use in denying it when my living and occupation depend entirely on it. While still a child, not yet speaking my first words or chewing my own bark, I was just like one of them. Looking back, I’m not sure whether I would have preferred it that way. I could have been a normal Hork-Bajir. Naïve, innocent. Care-free.

   But I am what my people fondly refer to as a _seer_. I never truly understood how a seer arises, other than it being a genetic anomaly, but it is often seen as a necessary occurrence by my people. In these times, especially.

   I was born in the year 2009. It was a time of relative peace compared to the decades that came before. I feel fortunate to be born at a time when my people have settled into a new home, but there is always much work to be done when we live on a foreign world where we are no longer the most prominent species. My people sometimes try to talk to me about the work that I am involved in, but they rarely understand because it is often so complicated. In many ways, our lives are much more complicated now than they were in the Great War. From what I have been told, anyway.

   As I have mentioned, my anomaly was not noticed for some time after my birth. I had no way to really show them that I was different, apart from perhaps a slightly smoother and more organised formation of my speech, but then my first words came late. Father says that I actually spoke my first words later than most other _kawatnoj_. I remember that, too.

   Six days had passed since I had entered the world. Mother chewed up some pine bark to a pulp for me to feast upon, spitting it out into her hands and letting me feed from them while she chatted with a stranger who was passing by. I wasn’t really paying attention to their discussion, too focused on my food to really care about anything else.

   I was beginning to get used to my surroundings, and now they no longer seemed quite so overwhelming. The trusting and naïve Hork-Bajir mind was rapidly developing, for the time dominant over the anomalous part that would later reveal itself. I greeted strangers with the same mixture of non-interest and trust that I gave to those I had grown to know, excluding my parents, who gained special privileges for obvious reasons.

   In the midst of eating, I would perk up when I heard familiar words, whether they were names of familiar people or anything that I associated with food or attention. A lot of the times when other people would visit, they gave a lot of focus to me, which, as I found out later, was them offering my parents congratulations and introducing themselves to me for the first time. I heard my name a lot during these particular conversations. However, it proved a bit of a mouthful, so it didn’t turn out to be my first word.

   No. My first word was toe. That is what Mother tells me. A little anticlimactic.  I am still certain that it was just another case of making silly mouth sounds for entertainment, because that was something I did often. A particular mouth sound that sounds a little like “thpit” always sent me into giggling fits. It still brings a chuckle from me today.

   So in a case of making stupid noises, my first word was uttered with a mouthful of chewed pine bark. Mother was understandably pleased and rewarded me with a loving cuddle, clucking encouragingly into my ear. Her friend offered congratulations, and even held me herself for a moment before I reached back for Mother, preferring her touch.

   “Taku say word!” Mother announced to the world. “Taku so clever!”

   Enclosed in her grip, I gazed up at her, more attentive to the fact that my food had disappeared. I vocalised my discontent with tears, and Mother took the hint. She was still bouncing, but composed enough to chew up another slab of bark for me.

   My _actual_ first word came that later that evening, though after my last “first word”, the reaction wasn’t quite as revelatory. Father returned from harvesting bark, quick to learn the news that Mother was so ecstatic about.

   He arrived in our tree with a thud, steadying himself on the midpoint of two separating branches with a big grin on his face. Under his arms, his carried the day’s finest harvest, adjusting it and dropping it all in the designated storage area, a large hole in the tree that was dug out to protect it’s contents from the rain.

   “Mago home.” Mother summarised.

   “Yes. Mago home.” He smiled, taking a particularly large slab of bark and bringing it between them, sitting down on a sturdy low branch. With deft precision, he raised it up and brought it back down onto the blade that protruded from his knee. It split into near-equal halves. He kept one for himself, and gave the other to Mother who tucked in eagerly.

   Mother smiled to him after taking a bite. “Taku say word. Taku say toe.”

   “Say toe?” He looked a little baffled, eyes falling to me as I crawled forcefully between them, taking up as much space as I could on their laps to achieve their focus. My mission was successful, but doubtful due to my invasive crawl. Father lifted my chin with a finger so that we made direct eye contact.

   “Taku say word.” He said proudly. “Taku take long time to say word.”

   “Long time.” Mother agreed, rubbing my back. “But blades grow good. Taku be good harvester. Like Mago.”

   Father was swelling with pride, grinning toothily down at me. “Take Taku out to harvest tomorrow.”

   I still find it amusing how my parents initially saw me as more of a tree harvester at that age, instead of a storyteller or a teacher. As it eventually turned out, the opposite was true.

   Father moved his beak to nudge mine. “Taku want to harvest tree?”

   I stared at him curiously. Father was addressing me, and I had no idea why.

   “Taku come with Dada? Find tree? Help Dada cut bark?”

   I grew excited, happy that sufficient attention was being put my way. In the excitement I tried to impersonate him, grunting out a sentence made up purely of gibberish. Mother and Father both laughed approvingly. Father sat me up straight on his lap.

   “Taku say not-words. Have to say words.” He lifted a leg, pulling his foot close to his chest and into my eye line. With a large finger, he indicated the thick claws that were his toes. “Taku say toe?”

   I leaned forward and grabbed a hold of the closest claw, using my sense of touch to investigate it. Then I inspected my own. It was much smaller.

   This activity bored me, though, and I gazed up wide-eyed at them both, pleading for more attention.

   “Taku say toe.” Mother urged from my left. “Say again for Dada.”

   They hadn’t realised that the utterance of “toe” was a coincidence, and my apparent refusal to repeat it upset them just a little, but not enough to put them off their dinner. They continued to feed as I wriggled and muttered gibberish in their laps.

   There is one family member who I have so far neglected to really mention, mostly because he was busy at the school tree for that first week, only returning home when I was sleeping or feeding from Mother. My bigger brother, a year old at the time, arrived home shortly after Father, having spent the day with his peers. Due to the rapid growth of Hork-Bajir juveniles, at his age he was already standing up to my parent’s necks, though at this point his growth was decelerating. He was nevertheless tall for his age, with impressive elbow blades and a shorter, muscly tail.

   He had a lengthy conversation with our parents, but I was too distracted by a nearby squirrel to care. My trance was rudely ended by a paired of hands that raised me into the air by my armpits. I protested, but the hands clumsily turned me around and I came face-to-face with my captor.

   “Lenk take little brother Taku for story time.” He exclaimed, chattering his jaw in anticipation.

   I tried to turn back, eventually craning my neck to see where the friendly squirrel had gone. It was no longer there, and I huffed indignantly, frowning at my brother who didn’t even seem to notice.

   “Yes, Lenk take Taku if Taku want.” I heard Mother instruct. “Need to be with brother for time.”

   “More time.” Father followed up. “Need see brother more.”

   Lenk’s big eyes watched me curiously, his head cocked. “Hello, Taku.”

   I reached and grabbed a hold of his snout playfully, making incoherent mouth sounds again.

   “Say, hello Lenk!” He suggested, moving his head around to stop me sticking my claws into a nostril. “Say, hello, brother!”

   I had no interest in repeating whatever he had to say. Instead, my response was a sneeze, spraying his face with a light drizzle of mucous. Mother and Father found it hilarious, but Lenk had immediately lost the motivation to play, gently dropping me to the tree’s wicker platform and rubbing at his face in disgust.

   “Taku sneeze on Lenk.” He groaned in protest.

   “ _Kawatnoj_ do,” Mother said, still chuckling lightly. “But sneeze not worst thing _kawatnoj_ do.” She took my brother’s place, lifting me from the ground and allowing me to clutch around her neck. “Lenk go with Mago. Help make fire for story time.” She stroked gently over my back, receiving a thankful purr in return. “Want good fire for Taku first time.”

   As the sun began to tickle the tips of the trees around us, Mother awoke me from a brief nap and pulled me to her chest. I held on close as she expertly descended out home tree, her feet touching down on rustling forest litter. My curious eyes wandered, head lifted and turning to get a better look at the base of the great pillars in which we lived, seeing them from angles I hadn’t seen them from before.

   Mother carried me through the dense forest into a large clearing. The canopies of trees ended, overtaken by a huge expanse of blue sky, turning to a light orange where the sun was quickly setting. Clouds hung overhead, a great fascination to me at the time, gradually migrating away from us, and a lake passed by in the centre of the clearing, winding through the grassland like a twisted twig and filling the air with the sound of lapping water. A group of people had congregated beside the lake, milling around with small slabs of wood or bark, barking and conversing with each other. Behind them, a pillar of light smoke rose from the ground, and as we approached further, a faint crackling noise could be heard from it. Once we had squeezed through the crowd, the source of smoke was revealed. A large pile of vegetation and wood had been formed, and from it licked something orange and glowing. Heat pressed against my cool skin.

   I clutched tighter to Mother and buried my head against her chest. Nevertheless, she proceeded and sat down on the ground about ten feet from the glowing hot thing – as I found out later, simply the campfire that we make every few nights for socialising in the late evenings.

   My short attention span at that age meant that I was quick to discard my worries for the fire, especially when I started to receive a large amount of attention from the other people around us, who seemed eager to meet me and have conversations with me, even though I understood next to nothing of what they said. I watched their faces as they cooed over me, seeing their jaws flapping and hearing the cheery grunts and huffs that came forth, gazing at each face while my mind subconsciously stored them and their sounds into my memory. Mother talked to them and eventually began receiving the majority of the attention, much to my grievance, so I clawed at her neck and fidgeted on her chest.

   The campfire continued to roar without me paying much notice to it, but everyone else in the area had finally settled, huddled together in a messy circle around it, some closer in, some further away. They were there for the heat that it provided, when the natural air of our home is cool enough to keep you shivering throughout the night. I admit that throughout my life, story nights are by far my favourite. Even as a tiny child, I was enjoying the extra warmth and company that gatherings brought.

   The atmosphere quietened as the people became tired. The sun had set enough that the fire light became our main aid to visibility, setting everything into a cosy orange tone. Many were silent, awaiting the main purpose of the event.

   “Need story before sleep.” A voice whispered to the crowd from across the fire. Several whistled their agreement.

   “Happy story.” Another suggested. “Happy story for Taku first story?”

   “Yes. Happy story. Good end.” Mother said, throat vibrating against my rested cheek.

   “Happy story for Taku.” The people echoed. I perked up at the constant muttering of my name, now sitting up straight on Mother’s lap and examining the surroundings.

   A storyteller was chosen, and he enthusiastically delved into his tale. However, my interest lay not with his words, but with the fire that I had seemingly neglected. I watched and admired the pretty flicks of orange and yellow, the way the wood beneath it crackled and popped as it fuelled the flames. I pulled myself away from Mother, who was willing to let me explore, and sat a few feet forward, gazing into the fire.

   It intrigued me immensely, and for a long while I was totally engrossed, unmoving and observing as it licked the air above me. I couldn’t understand it, for it looked both solid and not. One second a single lick was there, and then it wasn’t. The pieces of bark and wood below glowed more constantly. Did the orange stuff come from them? If the orange stuff was on the wood, and I could physically touch the wood, could I touch the orange stuff in the air?

   My mind simply had to know. I crawled further forward so that I was within arm’s reach of the lower pieces of deposited wood. The heat was more intense the closer I got, and now I was panting quite heavily. Nonetheless, I was so determined to understand the strange thing before me that I simply couldn’t back away.

   A single piece of bark jutted out from the pile, and on occasion a small piece of orange would flicker teasingly over it. That was my target area. I leant forward, rested on one arm, the other at the ready.

   The orange returned, wiggling over the wide slab of wood, taunting me. I swiped forward with my right arm and wrapped my fingers around… nothing. There was nothing there.

   For the first short moment, that is.

   I pulled my hand back sharply as I felt a new sensation ravish my hand. An intense, lasting pain that stayed even when I had withdrawn a few feet from the culprit. I screamed to announce my distress as the pain continued to throb over my hand.

   “Taku!” I heard my mother’s voice. I headed towards it, desperate for her to rid me of the stinging. I felt her arms pull me in, and she held me tightly against her stomach.

   “Taku not play with fire!” She warned in a sympathetic but stern tone. “Fire hot!”

   I heard the word, and in my distress I placed my tongue and motioned my cheeks, repeating it loudly. “Hot!”

   Mother was too focused on helping with my pain to celebrate, but she announced it anyway, much to the amusement of the others. “Taku say second first word! Yes, fire is hot, Taku.”

   “Hot.” I agreed. Tears ran down my cheeks as I continued to voice my discomfort, rubbing my afflicted hand against her chest.

   Someone had fetched some water, and Mother held my wrist as the cold liquid from the lake was poured from a container over my hand. It soothed the pain initially, but as soon as the water stopped it returned. I cried for a long time, longer than it took for the night’s stories to end and for everyone to retire home.

   Mother held me tighter than ever that night to help me to sleep, but my child mind was still reeling from the shock of my first contact with pain.

   That was not the only thing that my brain considered that night. It was still so curious, so fascinated by the flames. I wanted to know what it was, _why_ it was. Why it hurt when I touched it. My mind was developing quickly, and already I was searching for answers to the world around me. This may not have been too unusual for Hork-Bajir, but it was the first step that I took towards what I have become today.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

   The world around me, to my eager and curious juvenile eyes, was a weird and wonderful place. I explored the ever expanding lands around our home tree, now able to walk on my own two feet without the handicapping unsteady gait that inexperience brought.

   My family and I visited two more campfire nights that week, though I made sure to stay away from the open fire on those occasions. Instead, I listened with focused attention on the people around me. They talked, motioned with hands and heads, told stories and slept, and with a desperation to learn I took it all in, storing as much information as I could into my head. In just that week, my vocabulary increased considerably, and I was already able to convey simple messages: Could you feed me, please? I am tired, may I sleep? Mama, I have a splinter, please help!

   At least, that is how it sounded to me at the time.

   “Mama!” I squeaked tearfully. “Taku spinter!”

   “More splinter?” She groaned, pulling me up into her lap and inspecting my body. “Tell Mama where is splinter?” She asked.

   I sobbed and pushed myself forcefully against her. “Hand spinter. In hand.” I lifted the inflicted hand and limply dropped it to her chest. She carefully took it in her own and lowered her head so that her snout came within inches, and she inspected it closely.

   Then she laughed. “Splinter so small! Why Taku cry for splinter so small?”

   “Spinter hurt…” I grumped.

   With graceful ease and a motherly smile, she used the tips of her claws to pull the miniscule piece of sharp wood from the palm of my hand and flicked it from our tree. “Splinter gone.”

   I pressed tighter against her chest, arms wrapped around her back, putting her through a little discomfort as a knee blade pressed to her belly. I craned by neck upwards to look into her eyes, pleading for a kiss which she was more than happy to gift me. She lowered her head so that her two large head blades connected with my stumpy, undeveloped ones.

   “Taku better now.” She whispered, her great snout motioning in front of mine. “Taku want to get bark with Dada today?”

   Father (or Dada as I knew him at the time, a colloquialism that my people had adopted in recent years) had been taking me to the harvesting grounds daily to aid in my development, showing me all the techniques necessary like climbing difficult trees, making and mending nest wicker and stripping edible bark. Being an accomplished tree herder himself, he took pride in gifting all of his little techniques to me and was overjoyed when I paid extra attention to his lessons. He had already taught my big brother all that he needed to know, and he was certain that I would be just as successful.

   Later that day, he collected me from the home tree, allowing me to clutch to his belly while he made his way to the nearest harvesting grounds. Once there, he brought us to a tall maple that looked over a long narrow clearing. It was late morning, and there were many people in the area collecting bark for their own families. Father made sure that we were on an empty tree so that there was more space for practise, but also made sure that there were others in neighbouring trees in case he lost me. I was still very young and growing ever more explorative, so he made sure that I was always under some supervision, even it was that of complete strangers.

   “Taku help Mago get maple bark today!” He chimed, letting me drop down onto a high branch near the canopy. “Mago show Taku how to cut maple.”

   “Maple.” I repeated, testing the word successfully.

   Father nodded and jumped to the branch just below and to the right of mine. From my perch, I could easily see how he made the incision, how he used specific blades to tear great chunks from the tree body. He bounced lightly on his branch to make sure that it could hold his weight.

   “Always do.” He told me. “Mago not want Taku to fall. Taku might get hurt.” He bounced again, a little more exaggerated this time just to get the message across. The method was instinctive, and I even did it without having to be taught when exploring the home tree, but it was a lesson he felt compelled to establish.

   “Do.” I parroted with a grin, standing up on my own branch and copying his motions. The end of the branch wobbled, its leaves rustling against those of a neighbouring tree.

   “Now Taku watch.” Father instructed, facing the thick trunk of the tree. “Use wrist blade first.” Using his talon feet and his tail, he clutched firmly to the branch, and with his spare hand he held onto the one that I was sat on to steady himself. With an audible swipe, his thrust the sturdy wrist blade of his right arm into the tree bark, the blade slicing clean through to the point where it widened, just above where it connected to his arm. He tussled it back and forth a little to loosen the bark from the underlying layers, then retreated it.

   “Hole in bark now.” He observed. “Can’t pull yet. Hole not big enough. Need to make loose more.”

   Now he used the two other blades on his right arm. Starting from the gash already created, he pulled downwards with a less urgent pace, using the next blade down from the wrist.

   I began to wonder about the design of our blades. Looking at my own, I noticed subtle differences in the shapes and sizes. My blades were still far from fully developed, but even now the differences were clear: The wrist blade was a little longer and with a much sharper point, the base of it widening considerably from there to lessen the chance of it shattering upon contact with the trunk. The second blade, in the middle of the forearm, was more uniform in gradient, and the sharpest area was along the downward curve, not at the tip.

   Father pulled down the sides of the gash with that second arm blade, pulling with the sharp curved area to slice through it with ease. He did this on two sides, leaving the slab of bark dangling pathetically from the trunk.

   “Loose now!” He barked with a grin. “Now can just pull.” He demonstrated this, firming his grip on the standing branch and yanking at the loose slab with one hand. It came loose with a snap.

   I squealed with delight, the fresh scent of harvested bark pervading my senses. I reached forward with both hands to indicate my need for the nourishment. “Taku hungry!”

   Unable to turn me down, and despite our lesson only just beginning, Father relented and cut up the slab of bark, chewing some up into mush for me. My teeth were still not developed enough to chew fresh bark for myself.

   Having had my fill of bark, and Father treating himself to some as well, our lesson continued. I was shown numerous techniques, which were mostly repetitive (our people aren’t natural teachers), but I learned some useful tips nonetheless. For instance, I was shown how to harvest bark surrounding awkward branches, and during another break Father tried to teach me about which animals I should avoid and which I could happily admire close-up. I was already fond of the squirrels, having seen plenty in and around our home tree, and I found another on the maple tree to sit back and gaze upon, leg blades hooked into my branch for support.

   I babbled to myself, “Taku tree. Squirrel. Taku eat. Bark. Bark bark bark…”

   Father was just below, still gnawing on a thin slab and watching the activities occurring in neighbouring trees. His head soon looked skywards, up towards me, and in between chews and swallows he said, “Taku be good for get bark. Taku have good blades. Good blades like Lenk.”

   I giggled and squirmed on my branch so that I rested upon my belly, neck curled around the branch to look directly at him. “Taku get bark!” I agreed.

   About to begin collecting bark to bring home, Father hesitated when a low rumbling noise infiltrated our air space. He perked up and pounced onto another branch that was better suited to looking out over the clearing below, hanging with an arm and a leg and lifting his head high.

   “Dada.” I called, then proceeding to impersonate the rumbling sound and putting my hands over my ears, disturbed by the alien noise.

   He found the source of the noise pollution and turned his head to glance back at me. “Humans come. Taku not scared.”

   “Hoonuns?” I asked, unfurling myself from the branch and approaching his side, crawling down my tree trunk with sharp claws and blades. When I reached his standing point, I tugged at his tail so that he would pull me up.

   “Yes, Taku. Humans come.” He said, hoisting me by my waist so that I could sit up by his shoulders for a better view. From there, one arm slung around his neck, I could gaze out over the large clearing, a great slice through the wall of trees with the water of the stream glistening in the centre. Beside that stream ran a dirt road that led from the Yellowstone border up towards the mountains, passing directly through our territory. It meant nothing to me until that day.

   From off in the distance, the cause of the disruption came into view: A large moving object, bright white in colour with the sun’s rays bouncing from its smooth surfaces. The object followed the dirt track, which wound around the contours of the clearing and would eventually take it near to our tree. I could make out more objects within the white thing, but it was still too far away to see in great detail.

   Father seemed conflicted, picking at the grooves of his tail blade. His eyes followed the foreign thing approaching while wrapping a hand over my back, holding me close.

   “Taku need to meet Humans.” He advised to himself. Then, to me, he said, “Taku want to see Humans?”

   I stared blankly at him. It seemed to be enough of an answer.

   He grinned wide. “Mago take Taku. See Humans.”

   Making sure I was clung tight enough around his neck, he quickly descended the tall tree, landing with a thud on the rough undergrowth. From there, he jogged at mid-pace out into the clearing, on course to intercept the white thing that roared ever closer, its inhabitants soon coming into my view. A number of heads bobbed up and down from the open top of the white beast, whose bizarre round feet pounded at the dirt road.

   We were joined by a couple more of our people as the creatures in the white thing began to notice us. They raised multi-coloured arms and pointed with pale hands, chattered loudly amongst each other with voices of a softer, higher register.

   I was curious yet cautious, and I clung tighter to Father, pressing my head closely to his chest and wrapping my tail around him just below the armpit. He vibrated his neck and chest with something not too dissimilar to a purr to pass on some comfort and security to me, and I gratefully kissed my head blades to him, keeping one eye alert to the goings-on around us.

   The white thing rolled up, coming to a stop nearby on the dirt road. Its side was covered in a series of organised scribbles and an image that strangely resembled one of our people. Within it, the few creatures were moving and making noise, now more easily observed when up close. Their skin was unusual, with some areas pale, other parts crinkly and made up of a great variety of colour. They had fur on their round, flat-faced heads, much like a squirrel’s fur yet with a much greater diversity of style, length and colour.

   Father lifted my head and made light humming sounds in my ear that kept me calm in spite of the completely foreign situation I found myself in. The white beast ceased its low rumble, falling silent, but the noise of the creatures sat within continued, and with one eye focused on them I noticed they were all looking in our direction.

   “These Humans, Taku.” Father explained softly into my ear. “Human folk.”

   “Human.” I whispered, my pronunciation probably a little off.

   One of the Humans that sat furthest forward in the vehicle, the skin of its torso a dark green colour with small flaps around the neck, spoke to the rest of them. It held a small box to its mouth, attached to a bizarre curly, stretchy black branch.

   “I told you we would find some eventually.” It spoke, voice somehow amplified and distorted. “I think these guys have come to say hello!”

   I felt vibrations, and looked up to see Father shaking his hand in a wave directed at the Humans. The two other people who had ventured with us from the trees were also waving. In the distance, I spotted another of our people dropping down from the trees and heading over.

   “Okay, I think we can stop here for a while,” The amplified Human said to the others. “Feel free say hello, take some photographs. I’m sure these guys would love to answer any questions you may have.”

   “Oh my God!” One of the Humans with longer head fur exclaimed. “That one has a baby.”

   The Human pointed in my direction, and the eyes of the others followed with an accompanying chorus of noises. I turned in Father’s arms to get a better look at them, but clutched my tail tightly around his arm. The noises from the Humans only increased in volume.

   Father remained stood in place while the other people around us moved towards the Humans. Most of them had now exited the white beast via a loose flap on one side.

   They were stumpy, squat-looking creatures, walking up on two flat feet of varying colours. They didn’t look very threatening, being considerably shorter than a lot of our people, and lacking any type of blade on their seemingly weak limbs. How did they possibly cut their bark? Coupled with that, they lacked any sort of tail from what I could see. How did they stay balanced?

   Most noticeably, they were loud. Not loud in the same way as our people, whose volumes would be raised to high levels as we howled to each other through the trees. They were loud consistently, their presence bringing a constant, irritating buzz of high-pitched words spoken at a pace I had never thought possible. It was impossible to keep track of any one conversation when all of them were yapping at such speed.

   Three of our people had engaged with the Humans, but they were not enough to hold them all back. About five Humans approached me and Father, chattering incoherently amongst themselves and lifting small coloured boxes in their hands.

   Father held me securely, but he didn’t seem too concerned. As he would tell me later on, this was something that he did quite a lot while off harvesting. He would wait nearby the dirt road for the Humans to arrive, who usually came a few times each day, and wander over to greet them. To him and perhaps the vast majority of our people, they were harmless creatures that made lots of funny mouth noises. Father enjoyed their company.

   “Hello!” He greeted the small group that walked up to us. “My name is Mago Kelmut.”

   I noticed that one of the Humans was much shorter than the others, and stood just a little higher than I would have been had I been standing. It was somewhat cowering behind one of the taller Humans, clutched onto its small pale hand and gazing up at my Father.

   “Look, Casey,” The tall Human that held the smaller Human’s hand said. “Say hello to Mago Kelmut.”

   The small one did not move from its spot, nor did it speak a word.

   “Sorry,” The taller Human said to my father. “She’s a little shy.”

   “Shy.” Father agreed with a nod.

   Even at my young age, I could easily tell that the small Human was a lot more fearful than it was shy, even having just met the species. Their flat faces allowed them to be very expressive.

   “Say hello, Casey.” The tall Human urged. “They won’t hurt you.”

   The Human named Casey held her hand over her mouth, considering the situation, before shuffling further backwards. “They’re scary, Mommy!”

   Mommy, the taller Human, chuckled nervously, looking up to my Father. “Sorry, she hasn’t seen a real Hork-Bajir before. You don’t look as big on the TV.”

   “Tee-vee?” Father asked, perplexed.

   Another Human stepped forward, this one holding a black box fronted by a large cylinder. It spoke in a slightly deeper voice, “Mind if I take a few pictures?”

   Father held me closer, but was agreeable, though he obviously had no idea what the process really entailed. The Human with the black box lifted it to its eye line and pressed on the top, a slight clicking noise occurring. This was repeated a few times, and some of the other Humans joined in.

   Then, they wanted to get a little closer. Though the Human Casey remained petrified, Mommy approached us. “Do you mind if I we get a few pictures with you?”

   Once again, Father had obviously been through this routine before, and didn’t seem at all surprised when the Humans that didn’t hold small clicking boxes came and stood beside him. One even placed a hand over his shoulder. He simply grinned, looking to those with the small boxes and freezing in position.

   I gazed up at him quizzically. “Dada?”

   Before Father could explain the scenario to me, I felt the watchful stares of the Humans now focusing on me, and as I turned my head I saw those small, strangely-coloured Human eyes just an arm’s reach from me. I pulled closer to Father, anxious.

   “I never thought we would see a baby one.” The closest Human uttered. “Look, it already has those blades.”

   “How old is the baby?” Another asked Father.

   “What is _baby_?” He replied.

   The Human pointed a stumpy finger at me, causing me to blink. “That… uh… is it a boy or a girl?”

   Father sighed and curled a hand around my head gently. “His name is Taku. Taku Kelmut.”

   “He’s adorable!” A Human squawked, moving still closer to me and clicking its small box again in my direction. Father backed away slightly.

   More and more of the Humans were coming over to me and my Father, leaving the others who had joined us to run off back to the safety of the trees. The Humans were somehow more drawn to me, and soon enough we were encircled. Even Father became a little concerned, though it seemed more for my own confidence and not for his.

   The clicking of the small boxes was endless. I curled tightly into Father’s arms and whined my dissatisfaction. However, the Humans were determined.

   “Could we hold him?” One asked of my Father.

   “Taku scared.” Father explained. “Mago not think Taku like.”

   One or two of the smaller Humans groaned, except for the one called Casey. She had retreated back to the white beast with Mommy.

   “Can I touch your blades?” Another bleated from our left.

   “Why Human want to touch Mago blades?” Father queried, now becoming impatient at the Humans’ constant requests.

   After a while, as the Humans became more and more invasive, I began to sob, though that did nothing to deter them and even seemed to draw them closer. Even Father’s incredible patience ran dry when one Human commented “I’ve read so much about the war. It’s fascinating!” and he grunted loudly in disapproval. However, the Human whose voice was earlier amplified, who had generally stayed behind this whole time, seemed to notice our discomfort, and much to our relief it began to disband the others.

   “Okay, I think we should move along now. We’ll be late back, otherwise.” It announced to a few discontented groans. “I think we should say thank you to Mago.”

   The smaller Humans chirped, “Thank you, Mago!” and waved their tiny hands before they and the taller Humans made their way back to the white thing. Father was quick to retreat back to the security of the trees.

   We returned to our harvesting tree, and once there, Father sat on the sturdiest branch he could find with his back to the trunk, pulling me close to his chest. I had recovered from the incident enough to push away when it became uncomfortable, and Father let me sit back on his thigh.

   He looked glum, ashamed of himself. “Mago sorry,” He said, looking into my eyes. “Mago want Taku to meet Humans, but Taku too young.”

   I squeaked and babbled in a response to the words that I couldn’t understand, and Father smiled.

   “Taku see Humans again soon.” He whispered. “Mago take Taku again when Taku is older.”

   We embraced, and then got back to work. Father busily harvested enough bark to feed the family for dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast and I made a point of stabbing at random parts of the tree as practise, testing out the various blades that I owned.

   That day was the first time I ever came into contact with the Human species, and it would not be the last. Even in just those few minutes, exposed to just that small number of individuals, I had already had a taste of the frighteningly complex Human nature. As I have since discovered, Humans are an extraordinarily diverse species, and though many of them have genuinely good intentions, there are those who are not quite so agreeable. I had experienced the vast difference in reactions to our presence on this world on that first day: the cowering child who could barely bring herself to look at us, to those who would see us as some main attraction in a petting zoo.

   At first, I didn’t understand why Father felt the need to apologise to me afterwards, but the reason would become clear soon enough, and even more vividly than he could have ever imagined.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

   Summer was coming to an end. The days grew shorter as the nights became colder, and it wouldn’t be long before I was to experience my first winter in Yellowstone park. The entire community was preparing for the bitter cold that would soon overthrow our home, stockpiling strips of wood to insulate nests and blankets supplied by charitable Humans. Father and my brother spent more and more time collecting bark for the family, as our bodies began to require greater amounts of nourishment to sustain us in the changing climate. Mother was often left behind to watch over me, still in need of constant supervision despite my rapid growth.

   And it was not only size that I found myself increasing in. Mother and Father, who at first saw me as more of a doer than a thinker, were shocked that my intellect was developing at an alarming rate. Mother often joked that I was almost smarter than them already. It became less of a joke over time, and on occasion I would notice my parents both watching me as I played in the nest and the surrounding branches. It was not merely supervision, and the looks in their eyes were of intrigue.

   Perhaps most baffling of all for them was when I successfully made a fully functional pulley system in the home tree. Father had spent the day pulling thin strips of vegetation from loose branches and fastening them together to reinforce our sleeping area. He showed me, very briefly, how to attach small strips together to form one long, tough rope. At one point, he ran out loose branches, and rushed off in search of some more. He returned to find that I was doing the job myself. Having explored the base of the tree and picking up several inadequate twigs, I placed them all in a makeshift basket and used the strips that he had made earlier to hoist them up into the tree, looping the strips over a higher branch to make the job easier. Father was convinced that someone else had created it, but Mother had witnessed the whole thing.

   Thankfully, it didn’t appear to worry them. It was barely a concern, and more of a curiosity.

   Father and my brother were out collecting bark once again, leaving me behind with Mother. She had supervised me for a large chunk of the day. The others had left when the sun was at its highest point, and now it was closer to setting, slowly encroaching on the horizon of trees. For the entire time, Mother tolerated my higher level of activity, because though she was still young herself, I was at that particular age when energy seems infinite, as if I had just gorged on an entire bowl of maple sap, and she struggled to keep up.

   “Mother!” I called to her. “Chase Taku! Chase Taku up tree!”

   She was sat, wedged between two sturdier branches. “Chase Taku?” She repeated wearily.

   “Yes! Chase Taku!” I urged, pulling myself up the central trunk.

   Mother groaned and rubbed at her face. “No, Taku. Pok play with Taku all day. Want rest now.”

   In my hyperactive state, rest was a meaningless concept to me. “Not rest! Mother play with Taku! Chase Taku up tree!”

   “No, Taku!” She snapped in frustration.

   The tone of her voice brought me down from my bouncy condition, and I realised that this time she was serious. I dropped from the trunk onto the platform on which we lived and gazed at her glumly.

   Mother seemed regretful at her outburst and sighed. “Maybe Taku want story instead?”

   I shook my head, not in the mood for another story, especially so late in the afternoon.

   Mother accepted that, but found a way to compromise. “Mago and Lenk back soon. Maybe Lenk play with Taku.”

   Disappointed, I pouted to her and slumped in place. It was meant to pull at her motherly side and bring out some sympathy, but all I got in return was the slightest hint of a snicker. She hadn’t fallen for it, and so now I had no one to play with, at least until the rest of the family returned home.

   Over the past few weeks, on some of my more casual journeys from the home tree, I had garnered some new acquaintances, and even new friends that were about my age. I thought about visiting them, but I recalled that Mother would have to supervise me to wherever they were. I could ask to see my grandparents, but that held the same problem.

   Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long for company. The squirrel that frequented our tree had returned, gathering nuts and seeds, nibbling on them in the branches up above our heads. Grappling onto the central trunk of our tree, I crawled slowly towards it.

   The squirrel was not too far away, just three awkward branches upwards and slightly to the left. I had never successfully approached it before, and I had no idea what I would do when I finally achieved my goal, but at the time it was a little mission I could undertake while I waited.

   It noticed me after I passed the first branch (though it had likely seen me earlier, only now caring about my presence). Its hairy little nose twitched, as did the long bushy tail, and yet it remained stationary, clutching a tiny nut in its even tinier claws.

   “Hello, Squirrel.” I whispered, still approaching without any sudden movements. Its response was understandably silent, but its body tensed up just noticeably, causing me to stop.

   “Squirrel hungry.” I noted, staring at the nut that it held. “Need food to be big and strong like Taku.”

   Once again, it elicited no reply. Mother had always told me that animals don’t talk back, though I never understood why. Nevertheless, in my childish naivety I assumed that, at least on some level, it understood me.

   As the situation became more comfortable again, and the squirrel had released its tension, I pulled myself further into the tree, eyes fixated on the small animal. Now I was just in arms reach.

   I continued to speak to it, accompanied with small clicks that my parents used to calm me when I was stressed. “Squirrel say hello? Say hello to Taku.”

   Silence again, but the squirrel edged just a little closer. I smiled and lifted my arm slowly, reaching up to the squirrel’s branch.

   Suddenly, the tree was slammed, rocking the trunk and the branches enough to scare the squirrel into fleeing. I groaned heavily and slapped my tail against the tree in frustration. Looking down from my perch, I saw the source of the disturbance. Father and Lenk had returned.

   Their reappearance was enough of a relief for me to forgive them for scaring away the squirrel, and I gracefully dropped down the trunk, using my claws to slow my descent. I came face to face with Father, several great slabs off bark hugged under his arms and a couple smaller ones locked in his snout. He grunted out a greeting as best he could, and I responded with a chuckle and an embrace around his torso.

   Lenk was equally occupied with bark that had been stripped on their last harvest, and both he and Father began unloading the food into the hold that had been carefully carved out of the base of the tree. Once they had returned to the living platform, a few slabs with them for the family meal, Mother was immediate in asking Lenk the favour that she desired.

   “Lenk,” She started as they unlocked their head blades from a greeting kiss. “Taku want to play. Lenk play with Taku?”

   Lenk nodded and looked down at me. “Taku make Mother tired again.” He stated, judging the situation perfectly. “Lenk tired, too. Find bark all day. But Lenk play small game.”

   “Game!” I chirped, bouncing lightly on my feet. “What game?”

   Lenk moved to stand before me, towering over me before he lowered and sat loosely cross-legged on the platform, his tail laid out stiffly behind to keep him balanced. I copied his posture, sitting down opposite to and facing him.

   “What game?!” I repeated eagerly.

   “Play Teach game.” He smiled. “Taku go to school tree soon. Have to learn. Be smart like Lenk.” With a finger, he tapped the side of his head.

   “Teach game.” I agreed. It was a game that we had played several times before, though it had been a while since the previous game.

   Lenk considered for a moment. “Taku remember how count?” He asked.

   How to count? I nodded a yes and smiled, pulling up the knowledge from my head and bracing myself for the game that was about to begin. Lenk raised a large hand before me, and unfurled a single digit.

   “How many finger Lenk hold up?” My big brother pressed, shaking his hand slightly. “This one easy.”

   It certainly was, considering that he had just inadvertently told me the answer. “One.” I said.

   “Yes. One.” Lenk replied approvingly. Then, turning his hand so that he could see clearly himself, he unfurled another digit, taking a short moment to make sure that even he knew how many fingers were held up. Once he was certain, he showed his hand back to me. “Little harder. Taku remember how many?”

   “Two!” I chirped without any hesitation.

   A little shocked by my rapid response, he checked his fingers again and smiled. “Taku is smart. Remember good.” He commented, tapping the side of his head once again. “Now very hard one.”

   This time, he raised more than just the extra finger. Every digit on his right hand was raised. Again, he checked himself at first, taking longer this time and seeming to struggle, but once he was satisfied he lowered the hand to me. “Not think Taku get this one. Very hard.”

   I blinked, unsure of why he thought it was so hard. I counted each finger. One. Two. Three…

   “Four!”

   Lenk looked stunned. “Taku _very_ smart.” He complimented. “Count faster than Lenk.”

   “Taku like counting.” I explained, bouncing in place on the platform flooring. “Count branches in tree every day.”

   Having just reassured himself that he had the correct number of fingers, Lenk stared down to me quizzically. “Okay, Taku,” He began. “Do one more count.”

   His tone sounded defeated, not quite giddy as it had been just moments before. Nevertheless, I was pleased that he would indulge me in one more go, and I leaned forward, ready for the challenge.

   To my surprise, Lenk lifted both hands before, and in one movement raised each and every digit. The look in his eyes suggested that he expected me to fail, but I had been taught this number once before. It was, as had been explained to me by Father, the limit of Hork-Bajir counting. When we run out of fingers, we simply cannot count any higher without guidance.

   That one time of being taught, now weeks ago, was enough. I didn’t even have to count through the other numbers, and my reply was almost instantaneous. “Eight.”

   The change of expression on Lenk’s face was almost comical, a look of confidence instantly draining to a look of bewilderment. He pulled his hands up close to his snout and quietly began counting to himself.

   “Play new game!” I suggested, seeing how he had grown frustrated with the Teach game. “New game. Play.”

   Lenk was happy to be distracted, struggling endlessly to count to eight on his fingers. He shook his head and shuffled his position. “Okay, play new game. Easy game. Like Teach.”

   “What is game?”

   “Game is Find.” He informed. “Lenk say something. Taku find, hold. Lenk say if right.”

   The game sounded entertaining enough. “Taku want to play!” I hurried him.

   “Okay.” Lenk muttered, now surveying the surrounding area. “Find something…. Green, flat.”

   “That easy!” I shrieked confidently, already lunging for the nearest sturdy branch. My feet left wicker platform, and I balanced on a perch to reach up and pull a large leaf from up higher in the tree. I returned it to him promptly. “Taku find leaf!”

   “Yes. Leaf is right.” Lenk nodded, taking the leaf and laying it down before him. “Now Taku find something else. Find… something soft, white.”

   This challenge wasn’t as easy, but it didn’t take me much effort to spot a small donated blanket draped on a stump nearby. I bundled past Mother, who watched with great interest, and took the small climb up the trunk to reach the blanket, pulling it from its home and returning it to Lenk’s side, beside the leaf. “Taku find blanket. Blanket is soft and white.”

   “Good. Blanket is right.” Lenk said, reaching down and folding it much neater than I had.

   “What Taku find now?” I questioned enthusiastically.

   Lenk considered momentarily, resting a hand over his snout. In fairness to him, there wasn’t much around to seek apart from leaves and blankets and twigs.

   “Taku find…” He uttered, looking around the tree. “Find something that taste good.”

   Something that tasted good? I searched my memory and deciphered what exactly that meant.

   Looking back now, I realise that maybe I misinterpreted him.

   I reached forward towards Lenk, and wrapped my hand around the tongue that sat in his open mouth.

   “Tongue taste good!” I stated proudly. I was certain that that was what he meant, but the shocked look on his face explained otherwise.

   He shrieked inaudible words to me as I watched in confusion, still with a hold on his writhing tongue.

   “Tongue not right?” I asked.

   Lenk tried to shake his head without pulling on his tongue, just as I heard footsteps bound up behind me. A larger hand reached down and slapped lightly but sternly on my arm.

   “Taku let go of Lenk tongue!” Mother demanded, and I did so without hesitation.

   Lenk, reunited with his tongue, got up to his feet and played with his mouth to see if everything was functioning normally. Convinced that he was fine, he still felt the need to glare at me disapprovingly.

   I backed away just a little bit when I noticed that Mother shared the look.

   “Bad Taku!” She yelled. “Not hold people tongues!”

   Unnerved by her tone, I lowered my head and tail, staring down at the tree platform. I never liked when Mother yelled at me, and at that moment it didn’t occur to me what I had done that was so wrong. I thought it was part of the game.

   However, Mother did not see it as a game, and she lectured me a while longer, with me staring at the ground and twiddling my toes the entire time. Lenk provided no comfort or explanation, just stood there rubbing at his tongue. Once Mother had had her say on the matter, her voice returned to her more welcoming tone, and she announced that we would eat. But I wasn’t in the mood for my evening meal. I was in a bad mood, and I pulled myself away from the family, sat on a small bed that I had arranged from dried grass, and pouted with arms folded, trying to convince myself that I had done nothing wrong. I grunted angrily at Father when he came looking for me, and he decided that it was best to leave me to sulk.

   The sounds of bark being crunched soon wafted through the air, accompanied by the sweet aromas that they delivered. My stomach growled rebelliously, but I was too stubborn to offer my presence. Instead, I left the home tree, crawling from the wicker platform and silently scuttling down the side of the tree onto the litter below. I was going for a walk to take my mind away from the injustice that had been done. With the sun still gifting light upon the land, I ran off in a direction that I had never explored before.

   With our tree on the tip of a sort of peninsula, most directions I could take would lead to open land. Indeed, the way I strolled led to an area devoid of trees, but I was still on our people’s land. I had to be careful to avoid being spotted by anyone who knew me, who would likely feel it necessary to return me home. I jogged on at a reasonable pace, making sure to keep in a straight line so that I did not lose my way. It was not as if I didn’t plan to return.

   On the way, I made sure to pick out certain landmarks, the first of which was a large pile of rocks compiled for reasons unknown. Soon afterwards, I came across a small stream, an offshoot of the main body of water that ran from the mountains nearby.

   There was a third landmark, and that was where I stopped. Once I had left the stream far behind and found myself engulfed in another great wall of trees, I noticed that fewer of my people lived along there. A cline that followed the path that I took. By the time I reached a fence, there was nobody else around, save for the occasional crack of bark being sliced from off in the distance. No one lived there.

   The fence, to my naïve child eyes, was a foreign and compelling feature. It stretched like a hedge of bushes to my left and right, but it was made of a peculiar substance, and held by planks of wood that had been expertly cut. It was not the fence, however, that caught my attention. What did catch my attention was what lay beyond it: A huge structure of a variety of colours and materials shot up from a dark, flat ground, stretching up over the trees around it, and spewing golden light from small openings in its sides, as if a second sun were trapped inside. In fact, the whole building shone like a beacon, the _actual_ sun’s rays glistening off various surfaces.

   Below the building sat a number of the odd white beasts that the Humans ventured into our home in. They were lined up on the dark flat ground, hustled to the side of the building, and accompanied by numerous other beasts, differing in colour and shape.

   I heard voices. But they weren’t the voices of my people. They were alien to me. Human voices.

   I leant up against the cold fence and watched the enormous building as activity unfurled inside and outside of its walls. The light that shone from within would flicker on and off, but only in some openings, and occasionally I would see shapes moving around inside. Another white beast had since pulled up onto the hard ground, filled with a number of Humans who were slow to vacate. As expected, they were noisy and inquisitive, but I was far away enough not to attract their attention. Eventually, they disappeared into the building and took the noise with them.

   My mind slowly changed its focus from the building to both the time of day and my family. The sun was close to setting, and I would have to return before night fell. I didn’t want to get lost for the night, and I knew that my family would be concerned for my safety.

   I began to consider that maybe I had been in the wrong. After all, I wouldn’t like it if someone grabbed _my_ tongue. Lenk had obviously meant something else.

   Now, however, I was worried about the consequences of returning. Mother and Father would be panic-stricken to find that I had left the home tree unsupervised, and I had no doubt that they would make their feelings perfectly clear when I eventually showed up. But I had to go back, because I would have nowhere else to stay, especially when I was so small. I was practically helpless during the night.

   My mind wandered again, searching for any possible way to soften the blow that my parents would verbally deliver. I could give them a sincere apology, tell them that I would never do it again. It might work.

   I decided to leave the building behind. It would be better to explore it during the middle of the day and when I had my peers by my side, so for now I turned and began to bounce my way back through the trees.

   Something stopped me as I lost sight of the building. As I ran, my left foot caught onto something that crinkled loudly, and clung tight to the claws on each toe. I nearly tripped as I tried to kick it off mid-run, so I came to a halt and lifted my leg to inspect what I had found. It was another foreign substance, extremely thin but not easily breakable. As I pulled it from my feet (with some difficulty) and played with it in my hands, it made that horrible crinkling sound again. On its side was a selection of colourful symbols that meant absolutely nothing to me.

   What was on the inside was interesting, though. The light object had two open loops on top, and as I held them both in each hand, I noticed that the object was completely hollow. There was something inside of it. Another object like the one I held, but scrunched up and containing more objects within. I took it in one hand and dropped the first flimsy container.

   It was a struggle to open the second container. I shook it in my hands and picked at bits that I thought would open it, but I couldn’t get to the innards.

   Thankfully, I was not bereft of tools to aid me. I looked up and saw a small tree ahead, with a small, sharp protrusion sticking up from the side. I walked over and pressed a flimsier part of the material against the sharp piece of tree. A hole was created in the material, and I was able to use both hands the tear at its surface.

   Eventually, I made my way in, taking my time so that I would not break whatever was inside.

   It was filled with nuts. A variety of them. Some spilled onto the ground as I opened its container, but most stayed inside.

   Suddenly, instead of losing interest in the nuts, that provided me with nothing that beneficial, I stood back and looked at what I had just done. The nuts were hung up against the side of the tree, contained in the basket that used to be its enclosed container. It gave me an idea.

 

   I returned to the home tree just as night was beginning to set in. The sun had vanished behind the horizon of trees but allowed a deep orange glow to remain that guided me back. From a distance I saw Mother and Father, pacing the local area over the undergrowth, calling my name. I sensed that Mother was close to tears.

   I swallowed my pride and ran for them, ducking down from the trees and instead running over the damp leafy ground. Mother was the first to spot me, and she instantly opened her arms and smiled, a welcome that I was hoping to receive. Once united, I embraced her around her torso, and she moved her head down to connect our head blades.

   “Where Taku go?” She asked beneath a sob.

   Feeling guilty, and perhaps scared that she would chastise me whatever the answer, I remained silent on that particular matter, and replied instead with, “Sorry, Mother.”

   Father had noticed my return and strolled to Mother’s side, grinning. “Mago say Taku come back. Taku explore. Hunt for bark.” Then, to me, “Taku find good bark on hunt?”

   Again, I felt the same stab of guilt, responding with a shy shake of the head. Father drooped, disappointed.

   I looked up to see that Mother’s relieved smile had vanished. She began to express her feelings, just as I expected.

   “Taku not run away like that!” She ordered. “Pok and Mago worry. Scared! Think Taku get hurt!”

   “Sorry, Mother.” I repeated meekly.

   To my surprise, that was the extent of my punishment. Mother calmed just as quickly as she had grown angry, and she hoisted me carefully over her shoulder. “Taku come to tree now.” She sighed into my ear. “Must be hungry.”

   I certainly was hungry, but most of all, I was relieved that my parents seemed so forgiving, at least for now. I hadn’t even given them their gift yet.

   “Mother,” I said, poking her shoulder. “Taku make something. Make to say sorry for leaving home tree.”

   By now she had ascended the tree up to the platform, where Lenk had seemingly been kept as a lookout, and she dropped me down beside the trunk. “Taku make something?” She asked, cocking her head down at me.

   I nodded and lifted my left hand, in which sat a small contraption that I had crafted on the return journey home.

   The container full of nuts had inspired me. I had recalled the squirrel in our tree, how it searched daily for nuts to keep it nourished. I thought that maybe the way to get closer to it, to bring it to our tree more often, was to appeal to its hunger. While walking back, I found myself some branches and sliced them up to form long, tough pieces of string, and I used skills that Father had taught me, added with a little extra knowledge I had gained independently, to construct a small, sturdy box with a hole in the side, large enough for a squirrel to pass in and out. Inside, I had left the nuts that I had found outside of the Human building.

   The three members of my immediate family gazed curiously at my squirrel box, silent for a while, and then all at once inquisitive.

   “What that?” Lenk asked, among similar questions from Mother and Father.

   I smiled, pleased with my own handiwork. “Taku make box for squirrel. Make squirrel come to tree.”

   Father appeared baffled. “How box make squirrel come to tree?”

   “Taku find nuts.” I explained. “Put nuts in box. Squirrel come to eat nuts.”

   To demonstrate, I lifted myself up the trunk of the tree with the contraption in my spare hand. Taking the squirrel’s preference for higher branches into consideration, I had attached a small hook onto the back of the box so that I could secure it higher up the tree. I found an appropriate nook in the side of the trunk, and placed the box over it. As I thought, the box’s attachment held it firmly in place. Once I was happy with its placement, I retreated back down to the platform.

   There was a small period where the four of us simply stared upwards at the small box. It began to dawn on me that the squirrels had all retired for the night, because I only ever noticed them during daylight hours.

   But apparently, one squirrel was still awake, still searching for nuts for as long as the sun would allow. It hesitated as it entered our tree, perhaps wary of our presence, perhaps catching the scent of all the nuts that I had placed.

   It turned out that my squirrel box worked. After that momentary pause, the squirrel caught onto the alluring scents, jumped straight for the box and dived inside.

   I was too busy admiring my creation, initially, to realise that my family had all begun staring down at me instead. It shocked me a little when I turned around.

   “Taku make box?” Father asked.

   “Yes, Father.” I beamed. “Taku make box for Mother, Father and big brother.”

   Father looked intrigued, his eyes full of puzzlement, yet at the same time I saw a distinct sign of hope. For what, exactly, I wasn’t sure.

   He turned to Mother. “Taku is different.”

   “Yes. Taku is different.” Mother agreed, gaze still stapled on me.

   Lenk, meanwhile, seemed a little lost from it all. “Why Taku different, Mother? Father?”

   Father smiled. “Mago not know, but know somebody who know. Take Taku tomorrow. Take Taku to see Toby Hamee.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

   I had no idea what had gotten my parents so worked up. The next day, as soon as the sun had broken its way back into the distant sky, they were up on their feet, talking, feeding, running around trying to get something organised, and nothing of the activities for a daily bark harvest. They had something else in mind, and it brought both a smile to their faces and a desperate urgency simultaneously. And I seemed to be the centre of it all.

   “But Mago say take to Toby Hamee.” Mother said to him, midway through another brief conversation. I was clutched to her side, a little panicked as to the pace at which everything was going.

   Father was stood before us, a half-eaten slab of bark clutched in his right hand. “Yes. But Mago not know where Toby Hamee tree.”

   By now, they had been up for quite some time, and the Sun was fast rising through the sky, approaching its autumn peak. In their haste they had woken both me and Lenk, and though I was too small to find my own entertainment elsewhere, Lenk had grown bored and ventured off to find his peers.

   I had no idea what was happening, so in my determination to receive an answer, I spent most of the time holding onto and prodding Mother impatiently, but nothing she said made any sense.

   “Mother,” I spoke up, leaning into her. “What happening?”

   She turned her head down to me. “Mago need find Toby Hamee for Taku. Toby Hamee need to see Taku. But Mago not know where Toby Hamee.”

   “Not know where Toby Hamee.” Father agreed.

   Unsatisfied with the answer, I grunted disapprovingly at them. No answer they gave me made anything clearer, and the repetition of this strange person’s name was beginning to confuse me.

   Eventually, Father left the home tree, saying that he would find this _Toby Hamee_ person and bring them back here. This made me nervous, because it was plainly obvious that this whole issue, and the arrival of the new guest to our home was all something to do with me. Mother was left behind to keep watch over me, and though she was disappointed to be once again stuck waiting at home, her mind was kept occupied by talking almost incessantly. She had a lot on her mind, it seemed. She was sat on her favourite perch, and I was beside her, kicking my feet over the side of my branch.

   After a few long and essentially meaningless conversations, I brought up the question that had burned in my head for the entire day. “Mother,” I began, “Who Toby Hamee?”

   She gazed at me as if it should have been common knowledge. “Pok think Taku hear story before when smaller. Story of Toby Hamee.”

   I shook my head. That was one of the few things that I didn’t remember. I was most likely asleep at the time, which is not unusual when story nights go on till the moon begins its slow descent.

   “What Toby Hamee do?” I asked Mother.

   She smiled warmly. “Toby Hamee save Hork-Bajir. Make Hork-Bajir free. If no Toby Hamee, no Taku. No Pok. No Mago. No Lenk.”

   This intrigued me greatly, and I crawled forward so that I was almost stood on top of her. “Mother tell Taku story of Toby Hamee now?”

   Mother paused and looked away briefly, eyes wandering as if she were deep in thought.

   “Pok not know story well. And think maybe story too scary for Taku. Scare Pok. Even scare Mago.”

   “Scary story?” I pressed curiously, bouncing up and down with my tail holding onto the branch behind me. “Taku not scared.”

   Mother smiled, possibly amused by my fearless and naïve attitude. “Pok not tell story. Pok think maybe Toby Hamee tell story to Taku when Toby Hamee get here.”

   I backed away from Mother so that I no longer leaned over her, and sat back down on my own branch, growing ever more impatient as time went on. Mother and Father had talked about this Hork-Bajir with such appraisal that she was bound to be something so extraordinary. I grew tense and excited, almost shaking in place. I continued to question Mother, but her answers remained confusing and unclear. She said that Toby Hamee was different. She talked of Toby Hamee’s parents, and she repeated mentions of strange creatures that I had not previously heard of.

   But there was something other than joy in her voice. There was also a hint of worry in her, something that she hid so well, but not well enough for my ears to miss.

   We eventually decided that Father would be absent for longer than initially expected, and so during the peak of daytime, Mother kept me entertained by taking me to a nearby stream, where we filled donated containers to bring back to the tree. We drank heartily from it and bathed further downstream. Mother insisted that I be especially well-kept today.

   When we returned, Father was still not present, but Lenk had come back from the hot springs where he spent most of his social time. Mother was stunned when he asked her why she was in such a rush to get the tree looking nice, and she was disappointed that he too had not heard of the apparently oft-told story. He and I sat to watch as Mother panicked over the cleanliness of the tree platform, and after a while we resorted to playing yet another time-wasting game, making sure to stay out of her way for its duration.

   “Why Mother so worry?” Lenk asked mid-way through another game of Find. Even he was now sensing her anxiety.

   I shrugged, handing him the half-eaten leaf that he had asked for. “Mother say Toby Hamee save Hork-Bajir.”

   Lenk looked flummoxed, almost unbelieving. “Save Hork-Bajir from what?”

   “Taku not know.”

  He smiled slyly. “Save Hork-Bajir from bark stew Father make.”

   We exchanged a laugh. Father was never known for the concoctions he brewed for special campfire nights.

   Just then, Mother came bounding over to our side of the platform, bobbing nervously on her feet. “Lenk. Taku. Ready?”

   “Ready, Mother?” Lenk asked, slowly standing up. It seemed as though our game was finished.

   Mother smiled. “Toby Hamee nearly here.”

   Lenk finally appeared to lose patience, grunting irritably at her. “Mother not say to Lenk why so important. Mother run around too much. Mother need rest.”

   She shook her head from side to side. “No rest now.” Then she looked down to me, an almost expectant look on her face. Offering her hand to me, she said, “Taku, come with Mama.”

   I brushed past Lenk and took her open hand, not quite sure why she wanted me close. On the way past, I caught a glance from Lenk. I didn’t see long enough to decipher his expression, but it wasn’t a positive one.

   Mother guided me to the other side of the tree, and there she stood, watching expectantly for Father to return. I noticed her smiling when his familiar figure came hurtling towards us from a distance, and she had been right in saying that it wouldn’t be long for his (and the stranger’s) arrival.

   He swung fastidiously through thickets and over branches, landing daintily before us with a proud grin on his face before shaking off stray leaves that had landed on his body. “Mago back!” He announced.

   “Yes. Mago back.” Mother observed, but she craned her neck to look over his shoulder. “Where Toby Hamee?”

   “Toby come.” Father nodded, turning and pointing an arm out in the direction of newly emerging noise. Just coming into sight was another Hork-Bajir. Female, a little over average height. She was casually jogging through the trees, bundling over thickets and dodging out-thrusting stumps, a slab of bark held in one hand while the other guided her between the tree trunks.

   She landed on our platform, steadying herself against the trunk and observing her immediate surroundings.

   I don’t quite know what my mind imagined I would see. The constant appraisal of her name by my parents seemed to instil an image of something purely amazing, someone that would cause my jaw to drop in disbelief. Someone who, on first sight, would instantly give an off an aura of uniqueness and bravado.

   But she seemed just normal. Nothing special. If anything, she looked weary, worn down and dishevelled. She was considerably older than my parents. Not elderly, but her blades had begun to dull in colour and her eyes sagged tiredly.

   Then again, I didn’t know her yet. She hadn’t even spoken a word.

   “Toby Hamee here.” Mother said, a big grin on her face.

   Toby turned and picked some leaves from her wrist blades, remaining silent for now, but taking the bark that she held and offering it to Mother with a warm smile and a greeting kiss.

   “Toby come. Pok _fallana_.” Mother continued.

   The strange new Hork-Bajir nodded. “Your _kalashu_ travelled far to reach me, Pok. I understand that you wish to show me something.”

   I noticed something peculiar. Toby Hamee’s speech seemed different. Quicker and smoother in flow than what I was used to. Perhaps there was nothing physically special about her, but there was something different elsewhere.  I began to listen more intently, watching her closely. As of yet, she hadn’t paid much attention to me.

   “Yes,” Mother said. “Want show Taku Kelmut to Toby.”

   Mother stood aside and allowed me to move into focus. I moved close to her side, yet forward enough for Toby to get a full view of me. She looked down to me, and with a friendly smile she lowered herself so that she could offer a greeting. I readily craned my neck to accept the kiss.

   “Hello, Taku Kelmut.” Toby said, releasing the kiss but still keeping herself lowered so that I did not have to stare upwards to her.

   “Hello.” I returned, still trying to figure out why this person sounded so unusual.

   Toby moved backwards slightly, adjusting on her bent legs. Her eyes locked on mine for a while, and even they seemed different, intensely focused and wise beyond any I had seen before. They made me nervous, and I reached up a hand to find Mother’s own, that clutched onto mine.

   Toby finally averted her gaze, and stood up tall to continue conversing with my parents. “Has Taku been to the local school tree yet?”

   “No.” Father answered. “Mago think Taku go to school tree after three moons pass.”

   “Taku smart. Smarter than Mago. Smarter than Pok.” Mother explained.

   It was not something that I had heard them say before, and it shocked me completely. But despite my parent’s assuredness, Toby seemed doubtful, and I found her stare once again piercing into me.

   “You think he is _different_?” She asked them. Then, for clarity, “Like myself?”

   Mother and Father both nodded.

   “What makes you think that he is _different_?”

   For a second, my parents blanked, and then looked to each other in puzzlement. Obviously, they hadn’t quite thought this through. Toby, seeing that my parents would struggle to explain, turned her focus back to me. She held out a hand in my direction and invited me to take it.

   “Taku,” She started as I took her hand. “Could you please show me around your home?”

   I hesitated, at first looking to Toby and then to my parents to receive permission. When I saw that they gave their approval, I looked around for the best way to introduce the visitor to our tree.

   Leaving my parents behind to go over whatever they needed to discuss, I first dragged Toby to the other side of the tree where I expected to find Lenk. He had disappeared, probably having gone off to find his friends again, but left behind the various items collected during our latest games in the centre of the platform.

   “This where Taku play.” I told Toby, grabbing a spare blanket and swinging it over my head. “Play with big brother, but he not here.”

   Toby acknowledged. “What games do you play, Taku?”

   “Play Find. Play Teach. Play Sleep.”

   “What is Sleep?”

   “Sleep. Big brother say, “Play game. Play sleep. Taku win if sleep long time”.” I explained.

   “Ah. I see.”

   I threw down the blanket and jumped onto the trunk of the tree, lifting myself up to the small squirrel box that I had created the night before. After making sure that no squirrels were inside, I gently removed it from its hanging position and withdrew it down the tree. Hanging with one hand one a thin but sturdy branch so that my eyes were level with hers, I handed Toby the box.

   “Taku make for squirrels.” I said.

   Toby carefully took the box in both hands and inspected the handiwork. I was disheartened when her expression showed nothing more than slight interest.

   “It is very nice.” She complimented. “And it is good of you to embrace the wildlife that we share our homes with.”

   She handed the box back to me. I was confused, puzzled as to how her reaction was so different than my family’s. They were stunned by my box, but Toby was barely interested at all. Hiding my disappointment, I returned the box to its hook and jumped back to the platform.

   I continued to guide her up and down our home tree, even taking her away from home and showing her the local area. However, nothing seemed to be of great interest to her. She put on a façade of intrigue, but I could just as easily tell that she was not here for sightseeing.

   There was something else to her as well. Her body appeared strong, proud and experienced, but whenever I caught her gazing at me, in the small moments that our eyes remained in contact, I noticed fear. A strange kind of guilt that she was hiding. She didn’t want me to see it.

   But I saw it all too well.

   I began to wonder what her real purpose was. Obviously, she had taken the time to travel a considerable distance to our home at the whim of my Father who, in all honesty, has never been much of a speaker.

   My initial thoughts of Toby were vanishing, once seeing her as just a well-spoken middle-aged female, now seeing something else entirely. My mind buzzed, going over every possibility as my eyes kept watch on her.

   Funnily enough, she seemed to be doing the same to me. So often we would find each other staring, pondering, and trying to figure something out.

   On one of our short trips away from the home tree, somewhere nearby the river where a few locals had gathered, Toby sat down in the canopy of a tall conifer and tore off a few slabs of bark, offering me some as I joined her.

   “You have a lovely home.” She said as I sat down opposite to her. “I do not often come this way, but I always enjoy when I do so.”

   Though she had talked a great amount since we first met, I still struggled to grasps some things that she said. Her voice was fast, flowing, and it seemed to me that she did it deliberately as soon as we had left my parents.

   “Toby say fast.” I pointed out, after so long trying not to.

   She nodded, swallowing what bark she had in her mouth. “Yes. I speak fast.” She acknowledged.

   “Why?”

   Toby paused and dropped her slab of bark to rest between two diverging branches beside her. “Taku, have your parents talked much about me?”

   I searched my memory. “Say, “Toby Hamee come”. Say, “Toby Hamee save Hork-Bajir”.”

   “And that is all that they have told you?”

   I nodded. “Yes.”

   She sighed and picked up her food again, gazing over it and dragging a claw down an indentation in the bark surface. “Do you know why your parents called on me to come?”

   “Taku not…” I started, before stopping myself and putting a hand over my snout. I was about to say that I didn’t know, but something within me had been putting the pieces together this whole time, and only now did I begin to see what was going on. “Toby Hamee come to see Taku.”

   Toby smiled approvingly, crunching down on her food.

   I continued. “Toby Hamee come long way to see Taku. Mother and Father tell Taku yesterday: “Taku is _different”_. Say because Taku make squirrel box. Say because Taku count good.”

   She continued to watch intently. She wanted more.

   I was happy to supply her with my guesses. “Toby not think box _different_. Not think count _different_. Any Hork-Bajir do that. Taku only _remember_ good. Maybe Toby…” I hesitated.

   She stopped chewing and lifted herself forward to sit up straight, alert to my sudden pause, but remained silent for me to finish my thought process.

   “Toby come to see if Taku _different_. _Different_ like Toby. Taku not _different_ because count or make box. Taku _different_ because Taku _see_ different.

   Her eyes widened, and she gulped down what remained of the bark. “Go on.”

   “Taku see Toby,” I continued. “But not just see Hork-Bajir. Taku see that Toby scared. Toby worry.”

   Now Toby was the one to appear bemused. “What do you mean, Taku?”

   “Toby scared that Taku is _different_.” I spoke, revealing what I had kept hidden in my throat since we had been introduced. I had seen more than just her outward emotions, but I had also seen her on the metaphorical inside whenever I caught her glance.

   She knew that I was different, and, for some reason, she was concerned.

   Toby was silent, and she stared at me with narrow, calculating eyes. I felt the disguise drop, and from it came the look of worry that I knew was there.

   But with it came something that perhaps I had missed. She was relieved.

   “So it’s true.” She mused. “And here I was, thinking that I would never see it again in my lifetime.”

   I shook my head, feeling a little dizzied. I didn’t quite know what to say, and for a while there was an awkward silence.

   “So what mean?” I asked of her, her own sense of worry discomforting me.

   “It means lots of things,” She said. “Most of which you will learn soon. For now, it means very little. But, Taku, it means that you and I will need to spend a little more time together.”

   “Toby come back to Taku tree again?” I guessed.

   “Not quite.”

  

   We returned home a little while later. Toby went over a few issues that I had, mostly just questions about what being _different_ actually meant. She explained, and I listened diligently.

   I was a seer. An anomaly. The details as to why I was a seer were still a bit much for me to understand, but Toby assured me that I would know soon enough.

   There was a lot that I didn’t understand at that moment, and challenges that I did not know I would have to face. I was naïve, ignorant of what it all meant, how it would affect myself and those around me. That was something that Toby was yet to reveal, and now I realise that that was probably for the best. The true reality of my deformity, had I known from the start, would have scared me into remaining silent, pretending to be just another simple, innocent Hork-Bajir.

   I may have been a seer, but at such a tender age I still had so much to learn.

   Mother and Father had waited patiently in the tree for us to return, and before they noticed our arrival, I saw concern in them. Not the same as it was in Toby, but concern nonetheless.

   Mother was quick to embrace me, bringing her head down to connect our head blades. “Taku back.” She whispered.

   I smiled up at her as she stood straight again. “Sorry Taku take long.”

   Toby shifted forward, standing tall and proud before them. “Mago? Pok?” She began. “You were right.”

   Father nodded, a smile creeping its way onto his face. “Taku is _different_ , like Toby Hamee?”

   “Yes,” She replied, barely holding back a smile of her own. “He is like me.”

   “So…” Mother grunted. “What happen now?” She, unlike my Father, looked more unnerved than joyful.

   Toby’s smile dropped, and a more regretful expression took its place. “Taku will need an education different from the other _kawatnoj_. With your permission, I would like to teach him personally.”

   “Toby Hamee want to come back to tree again? Teach Taku?”

   She shook her head. “No. Taku will need to come to my tree. If it’s okay, I would like him to be there tomorrow.”

   Both of my parents looked saddened, but they gave their permission without pause.

   “How long Taku at Toby Hamee tree?” Father asked.

   “Daily.” Toby answered immediately. “I have a lot to teach him. But don’t worry, I will make sure that he is home every day. Despite the distance between our homes, I cannot bring myself to keep Taku away from you. Though I would love to be able to teach him in his own home, I have duties to watch over which requires me to be at my own tree.”

   I noticed Mother turning towards me, lowering her arms and inviting me over. I waddled to her and she lifted me up in her arms so that I sat, leaning against her shoulder.

   “Taku want learn from Toby Hamee?” She asked me, her snout almost pressed to mine. I nodded.

   Toby shifted, once again reigning in my parent’s attention. “Please, though, don’t stop Taku visiting the school tree. Though he may not need the education, I cannot stress enough the importance of having peers his own age.”

   “Still take Taku to school.” Mother confirmed, her warm breath curling around my neck.

   “Thank you.” Toby grinned, turning and making her way to the edge of our home. “And thank you, Taku. I shall be back tomorrow morning.”

   With that, my new teacher left.

   That night, I didn’t sleep. From nowhere, this revelation had popped its head up and fuelled my imagination to bursting point, and as my mind began to churn faster and more vividly, I found myself unable to sit still, unable to let it all rest. I laid down in my nest once my parents had stopped fussing over me for the night, and though I was able to nap briefly, I found myself pacing our tree platform, wondering and questioning.

   Toby Hamee had awoken something deep inside me. My entire perception was changing, and for now those perceptions were positive, something to be proud of, thankful for. But then I remembered the look in her eyes when she revealed it all to me. The look of concern and guilt.

   I suppose that nothing is what it seems.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

   I didn’t sleep a wink. My mind simply wouldn’t let me, and it buzzed for as long as the moon hung in the Earth sky, wondering, questioning. Tomorrow was going to be something special, something much different from my usual routine, but somehow I knew that it would be equally daunting, the beginning of something that I may later come to regret. The origin of those thoughts itself was a curiosity, and much of the time was spent wondering where they came from.  The pace at which my brain was churning eliminated any possibility of sleep, and Mother eventually snapped after my spending so long just wandering around our home, and she told me to get some sleep.

   Morning eventually came, and the trees around us began to flicker with the beginning of our people’s daily chores. Father had rushed off to do his own little duties, and Lenk had gone to the school tree with his peers, so Mother waited with me for Toby Hamee to arrive.

   She did so, earlier than expected, and I instantly suspected her eagerness. She kissed Mother and assured her that I would be taken care of, and that I would be returned before sunset. To a Hork-Bajir, that is a long wait, and Mother held back a whine but was ultimately agreeable. She held me close, told me to stay out of trouble, and we were on our way.

   The journey to Toby’s home was lengthy, much further than I expected. It was amazing to see how far our people’s home spread, when just that morning the world consisted of just a few square miles. We sprinted past great mazes of trees, bounded over endless open grasslands and scuttled through hot springs, always maintaining a steady pace. When we tired (which, more often than not, was just me), we took a few moments to catch our breath, find some bark to feed on, meet a few of the locals.

   I no longer recognised anyone as we made our way further from home. No one recognised me either, but they greeted me just as kindly nonetheless. Toby, however, seemed well-known wherever we went, and I began to feel a little intimidated by her apparent influence on most that she passed. She did her best to avoid getting stopped, but sometimes she simply couldn’t escape, and she would spend some time chattering meaningless conversations with faces that she knew well and some that she didn’t.

   Eventually, we arrived in Toby’s local area, plainly distinguished from the other localities we had passed by the number of inhabitants. I had never seen so many of our people in one place. There was never a moment when no Hork-Bajir invaded my field of vision, and many were wandering the clearing in which we arrived, transporting bark or conversing with neighbours. Toby informed me that this was the first place that our people had come to when they moved to Yellowstone, so a great number made their homes here. I simply asked, “What Toby mean when say Hork-Bajir move to Yellowstone?” She said that she would tell me later.

   Once she had passed by her neighbours, Toby led me up her home tree, one that stood in the centre of the clearing, taller than those surrounding it, and made up of several spruce trees tied together, a platform built sturdily between them. From the canopy, she could see for miles, as I found out when my explorative instinct led me up there.

   Not only was the tree fascinating in its structure and location, but its contents also piqued my curiosity. A number of small white boxes were sat in one corner, and within them were piles of strange leaves covered in black scribbles, like someone had scraped a muddy claw on them, but with exquisite and organised detail. A few more stray boxes were lying around, and there was also a whole host of unusual and foreign objects compiled by one of the tree trunks, guarded from more extreme weather by an expertly crafted shelter.

   Toby Hamee’s home was impressive, to say the least.

   I couldn’t spot anybody else in the tree, and at first I thought that she might have been living in there on her own, but I then noticed a nest large enough to comfortably fit a whole family on one side of the platform, wide enough for several people to huddle for warmth in sleep. Perhaps her family were out doing their daily routines elsewhere.

   Toby had made herself comfortable, wedged in a nook in one of the trees. “Make yourself at home, Taku. I have some water from the hot springs if you wish to have some.”

   I nodded, still amazed by her beautiful home. Toby reached to her side and retrieved a large translucent cylinder filled most of the way with water, twisted the top away and handed it over to me. I took a greedy gulp, spilling a large portion down the sides of my mouth.

   “Thank you, Toby Hamee.” I said once I had moved the water away from my mouth. She took the water and drank some herself.

   “Taku like Toby Hamee tree.” I started, sitting down in front of her on a cushy mound of dried grass. “Big. Make Taku feel… good.”

   “I’m glad you like it.” She replied nonchalantly, hand now reaching down beneath the nook for something else. Apparently, she had another storage space just beneath the platform.

   I crawled closer, trying to peek at what she was rummaging for. “What Toby do?”

   She smiled down at me, though her right hand still searched. “I am trying to find something that will help you to learn to read.”

   “What is read?” I asked.

   “A way of communicating, without speaking. I will also teach you to write. And to speak English in a way that will be more suitable when conversing with Humans.”

   I stared blankly at her. Nothing that she had just said made any sense to me, and she quickly realised that, slumping back and rubbing her chin with her free hand, trying to find another way to explain.

   She caught an idea, getting up from her nook to walk over to the area of the platform where the small white boxes were sat. I followed her closely and watched as she bent down to pull out one of the white leaves with scribbles on one side.

   “Here,” She said, handing me the white leaf and then pointing to the scribbles. “I will teach you to understand that.”

   I gulped, now able to inspect the white leaf more closely. The black squiggles were tiny and complicated, formed with curls and spots and strung out in long lines that stretched from left to right over the surface. Those lines were themselves arranged into large blocks, of which I counted five on the single leaf. I shook my head.

   “Taku not know what leaf say.” I whined, shaking the piece of paper as if doing so would somehow reveal something yet undiscovered that would aid in my understanding.

   “It appears daunting, yes.” Toby mused, once again sitting down in front of me, now flat on the platform. “It was just as daunting to me when I first learned to read.”

   I paused to think for a moment, now sitting down before her. “Toby Hamee know white leaf?” I asked incredulously.

   She nodded. “Yes. And you will someday, too. Soon, if my own experience is anything to go by.”

   I didn’t feel at all assured, especially when I gazed once again at the terrifyingly complicated series of scribbles that I had been introduced to. “What white leaf say, Toby Hamee?”

   She hesitated, but then shrugged and took the paper, raising it before her snout. “It reads: Dear Ms Hamee. We write to inform you that your reservation at the Four Seasons Hotel, Washington D.C., has been approved, commencing on December fourteenth and terminating on December twenty-eighth. You shall be residing in room 130 for this duration, with access to all hotel facilities and-”

   I covered my ears and rolled out my tongue, causing Toby to stop her reading. She chuckled knowingly, and placed the white leaf back in its box. “That was a letter. It is what the Humans and I use to communicate with each other. Letters are written on paper. White leaves.”

   I squinted at her, still not quite getting it and growing more and more agitated, but I reached into another box that was closest to me and lifted out a second white leaf. “Pay-per?”

   Toby froze and stuttered silently. Then, she reached forward and gently pried my hands off of the paper. “Yes, paper. However, a lot of this paper is very… important. Work that I must ensure is done. Please, ask me before you touch any.” She placed that particular box away in a small storage shelter, and then brought another box out. This one was red and filled with paper that had been scrunched up or torn. “Here, you can play with these sheets of paper. They are not needed.”

   Intrigued, I pulled out a small piece of paper from the red box and investigated. This one had fewer words on it, and they were bigger. However, they were a lot messier, the lines not as straight and the style not as consistent. I flattened out the corners and decided to keep that piece for myself. My family may have appreciated me bringing it back to them as a gift, because though its smell told me that in was inedible, I was sure that they would find some entertainment in its simultaneous simplicity and complexity.

   Nonetheless, I still understood nothing of it, and my young mind saw this initial lack of knowledge as defeat. “Toby Hamee,” I began meekly. “Taku not read. Why Toby want Taku read?”

   Before I had asked, she had made her way back to her nook to restart her search for the mystery object below the platform. She used her blades to hook onto the trunk, and lowered her upper body over the edge of the platform. “Because, though you may not be able to read now, it will not take you long to learn.”

   I narrowed my eyes, yet again unsure of what she was implying. That reply did not answer my question, and so I continued to press, though talking to her lower body, that hung upside-down over the platform edge, was a little off-putting. “But why make Taku read?”

   Finally, Toby found what she had been looking for, and rotated so that she could walk upright, back onto the platform. In her hands, she held a large boxy object, displaying numerous shapes and colours that were arranged in long horizontal lines.

   “Because, unlike the rest of our people, you can.”

   “Because Taku different?” I asked.

   “Yes. Being a _seer_ means that your mind can remain better focused.” She explained, sitting down before me with the object in her lap. My eyes wandered to it as she continued, “You are a _seer_ not only because of your more defining world perception, but also for your intellect. Though it takes that particular side a little longer to develop, it means that your intelligence is not faltered by our limiting biology.”

   I stared at her blankly, and she sighed apologetically.

   “Please, trust me. You will begin to understand.” She said, hoisting the colourful object between us on the platform. The body was white with a blue base, but a series of protruding orange knobs spring from the centre in three long lines. On those knobs were more small scribbles, but they were larger and brightly coloured. More distinguishable. The whole object shone, light rays reflecting off its surface. Not too bright, but enough to further engulf my attention.

   “What that, Toby Hamee?” I asked, still gawking at its vast array of colours and shapes.

   “This is something that I borrowed from a Human friend.” She said with a smile. “This is how I am going to teach you how to read.”

   I blinked, a little surprised at how a single, inanimate object would be able to teach me anything. Nevertheless, I reached forward with a tentative claw, pressing it against one of the strange orange knobs, and-

   _G_ , it screeched in a hideous, high-pitched vocal tone, _This is the letter G_.

   Perhaps this box was not inanimate after all! I grunted to express my ambivalence towards the object and pulled it a little closer. I pressed another orange knob.

  1. _This is the letter B_.



   I laughed heartily, and already I found myself fully enthralled by the baffling and marvellous… _thing_! I pressed more and more orange knobs, and the thing continued to emit its confusing but repetitive statements.

   Then, completely by accident, I nudged another small knob, but this one was off at one side, away from the orange ones, and instead of describing so-called letters, it began to make a most peculiar set of noises, followed by another voice and some jangly, metallic tune.

   _Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O…_

I covered my ears with both hands. The simple vocal sounds that the orange knobs had spoken were bad enough, but this was terrible. I screeched at the box to make it stop, but only when Toby messed with another knob, hidden on the underside, did it stop.

   Uncovering my ears, I asked, “This help Taku read?”

   She nodded, and pointed to the first orange knob of the second horizontal line on the box. “These are each called letters. These make sounds.” Lifting the box again, she flicked the hidden knob again, and the object sprang to life once more. “It will also help you count. Has your family taught you to count?”

   I grinned and nodded proudly. “Taku count good! Taku know all numbers!”

   With a claw that was just a little too large, Toby pressed one of the knobs that occupied the highest horizontal line, the furthest to the left.

   _One. This is the number one._

   I smiled, recalling that one was a word I knew well, and one that I could apply meaning to. I lifted a single digit into the air. “One.” I repeated.

   Toby moved her finger to the next knob on the right and pressed it.

   _Two. This is the number two._

   Again, I raised the correct number of digits into the air. Now, however, I stopped my childish giddiness and laughing, putting aside my excitement of the fascinating object and now tried to seriously search for a pattern. Before, the numbers one and two were merely spoken values, sometimes symbolised with my fingers, though that was merely just to aid in remembering them. Now, one and two were not just spoken sounds, but pictures. The knob that produced one was illustrated with a straight, vertical line, whereas two was a large curve, ending in a horizontal straight line beneath.

   I tried to reinforce the idea by pointing it out to Toby, and her response was positive. Already, I had figured out the pattern, and I moved further along the line of knobs, to one whose illustration consisted of two smaller curves that were joined at the middle.

   “Three.” I guessed, pointing at the knob and then accompanying the guess with a display of fingers.

   I pressed the knob, and to my satisfaction, the machine agreed. I moved my fingers further along, correctly guessing each number before validating it by pressing the knobs. That is, until I came to eight.

   _Eight. This is the number eight._

   Suddenly, I found myself in a difficult situation. Eight was not the end of the line, and indeed there was one more symbolised knob to go. The illustration showed something that looked much like the image for six, just upside-down. I flummoxed and placed my hand over my snout, contemplating.

   Eventually, I realised that I couldn’t figure it out. I glanced up to Toby, whose gaze had been fixated on me the whole time.

   I saw that worry in her eyes again.

   She nodded and forced a smile. “That one is unfamiliar. Not only to you.”

   I looked away, feeling strangely embarrassed, and I played with the tip of my tail nervously. “Taku no more fingers…”

   “You thought that numbers only went up to eight.” Toby summarised for me.

   “Yes.” I admitted, perhaps unjustly ashamed of myself. “Lenk always say that. Mother and Father say, too.”

   Toby reached forward and took my right hand that I had nervously withdrawn, and she guided it gently towards the new number. I held a claw over the number, and slowly pushed it down.

   _Nine. This is the number nine._

   I looked to Toby again for reassurance. She smiled down to me and repeated, “Nine. The number that comes after eight.”

   “Nine…” I mumbled under my breath. “But… Toby Hamee?”

   “Yes, Taku?”

   “What come after nine?”

 

   I spent the rest of the day in Toby Hamee’s tree, mostly learning, with aid from the various gadgets that she kept stored away under the platform. I learned to count to twenty, and quickly skimmed over the alphabet, something which I would continue with tomorrow. In between teaching sessions, Toby would take me away from the tree to feed or to visit local landmarks, perhaps to drink from the river or aid families harvesting bark, but all the while I would let my mind churn on, and I would often find myself instinctively counting, speaking letter pronunciations to myself, revising what I had been taught.

   Toby had taken note of my progress, and she seemed impressed with the pace at which I was learning, but not too surprised. She told me vaguely about her own experiences, how she suddenly found herself soaking up each and every little bit of information that she could, despite having so little around her to aid in her learning. She had to do it almost independently, but I had her now to help me, and that meant that the pace at which my intellect grew was staggering, even within just that one day.

   Despite my eagerness to show off my new counting abilities, Toby was stubborn in keeping it downplayed, to the point where she wouldn’t even admit to those around her that I was a _seer_ like herself. Local people would see me counting happily to myself, and though I could see the clogs churning within their brains, the slightest hint that they understood what it meant, Toby denied that it had anything to do with being _different_. She would tell them that I was simply recalling, not actually appreciating the words that I spoke. They believed Toby, no matter what she said.

   She was protecting me from something.

   I still sensed an ambivalent stream of emotions from her whenever her eyes settled on me. Especially when I was learning. The concern was still there, wrapped in a subtle veil of relief, and I quickly came to accept the reason for this to be the same reason that she was so unwilling to announce my “gift” to her neighbours. It didn’t matter, however, because members of her own family were swiftly able to spot it when they came back home, and I soon found myself the centre of their attention, and they cooed and clicked approvingly over me. Toby managed to pry us away to a more secluded area nearby the river, but I was glad of the extra company and sad to leave them behind.

   But through all of it, I never got to know her. She was my teacher, and she did that job with all the enthusiasm I would have wanted her to show, but that was it. She was simply a voice. I would try to ask her about her life occasionally, about why our people considered her so influential, how she “saved” the Hork-Bajir, about why her tree was full of white leaves and strange foreign gadgets, but every time she would change the subject. She evaded any question that became too personal.

   The sun was beginning to set, and we had just gone over the first half of the alphabet again when Toby decided that she was hungry. She sat herself comfortably against two thick branches and slumped, jabbing her wrist blade into the bark behind her head to pull away a slice. She handed me a piece, and I took it and sat by her side.

   “Toby,” I started as she bit into her slab. “Taku come back tomorrow?”

   She gulped down the pulp in her mouth. “Of course, Taku. If you want to. I can pick you up from your tree at the same time.”

   “Thank you.” I smiled, sitting up on my branch and casually swinging my legs. “Maybe when Taku come back tomorrow, Taku know _all_ alphabet. Remember good!”

   She nodded to me and gave a smile of her own. “You have made good progress today. I am sure that you will be able to remember all twenty-six letters by this time tomorrow.”

   I paused to nibble at my bark, but my gaze fell static on my feet, and I couldn’t help but bring up my concerns, having hidden them all day. “Toby?”

   “Yes, Taku?” She replied through a snout-full of bark.

   I took a deep, steady breath. “What Toby hide from Taku?”

   She paused, and for a second she withheld a steadfast appearance, but it soon faded, replaced by that guilty expression I had seen only a few times before.

   “I don’t wish to hide anything from you.” She stated. “But at the same time…”

   There was an awkward pause. While she was trying to find a way to explain, I was trying to figure it out for myself. She beat me to it.

   “I don’t want to scare you.” Toby explained, “The title of _seer_ brings more than just a deeper perception and a greater intellect. It brings certain responsibilities that I believe you are far, far too young to understand, let alone cope with. I cannot bring myself to announcing you to our people, because that would mean expectations of you, especially in times such as these.”

   “Times?” I asked, not quite sure of what she meant. She still had told me nothing of our people’s history.

   She sighed. “This is not our world. This is not our home. This is not where we belong. I wish I could tell you why, but… I will wait until you are a little older.”

   I huffed petulantly, disappointed that yet more facts would be unavailable to me. Her statements, however brief, though, intrigued me.

   “This Human home?” I asked from some corner of my mind.

   Toby blinked and look over to me, eyes narrowed. “Yes, it is. How do you know that?”

   I scratched my chin, not quite sure myself how I knew. “Toby tree not like other trees,” I recalled. “Toby tree have white le-… paper. Say paper how Toby talk to Humans. Alphabet box also from humans. And…” Something tugged at my mind, and it finally caught up to its own pre-formed conclusion. “Toby talk like Human.”

   “You have met Humans before?” Toby asked.

   “Father take Taku to see Humans.” I explained. “Humans talk fast. Long. More words. Like Toby Hamee. Toby Hamee is _seer_ , now talk like Humans. Talk like Humans because Toby _be_ with Humans.”

   Toby looked sick, and her jaw trembled, just barely but enough to notice.

   “Toby is _different_. Taku is _different_ , too. So if Toby be with Humans, maybe Taku be with Humans, too. But… No Humans here.” I said, gesturing to the landscape around us. “Mother and Father say Toby Hamee save Hork-Bajir. Maybe Toby Hamee save Hork-Bajir from Humans.”

   She didn’t quite know what to say, and for a while she just stared, emotions swirling visible over her. Then, she held out her hand for me to take, and pulled me a little closer, trying to break the awkward tension that had befallen us.

   She whispered slowly to me. “Taku, I want you to have what I never did have. I want you to have a childhood. Don’t worry about any of that now, please. Don’t overthink this. This is why I haven’t told you anything. Obviously, I misjudged your insight.”

   “Taku is _seer_ , like Toby.” I stated matter-of-factly.

   “I know, Taku,” She replied mournfully. “But that doesn’t mean that you should live like I did. Be a child while you still can. Please.”

   I leaned against her side and watched her, picking up on her sincerity and her deep sorrow. As far as I was concerned, I was, and always had been, a child. I felt like a child, acted like a child.

   I took my small piece of bark, and with a giggle I balanced it on the tip of Toby’s snout. To my relief, she smiled warmly, and after balancing the bark for a while, she whipped out her tongue to snatch it into her waiting mouth.

   “Come on, I should take you home.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Things changed so much in the weeks that followed my first visit to Toby’s tree. I was amazed at the sheer amount of knowledge that I was able to pick up with little to no difficulty, and even Toby was stunned at how pacey my progress was. Within two days I had mastered the alphabet, and though my pronunciation wasn’t quite perfected for another day or so, it wasn’t long before I was learning how to read. Toby would take sheets of old paper from around the tree, and challenge me to read them. At first, I was asked to read one word at a time. Words became phrases, phrases became sentences. Soon, after about two or three weeks of intense training, I could read entire pieces of mail. Numbers were a little harder to grasp, especially when it came to manipulating them, performing sums or subtractions, but my previously unexpected mastery of the Hork-Bajir counting limitations was a telling premonition, and soon I was as equally well versed in numeracy as I was in the alphabet.

   Though she had originally planned for me to visit daily, Toby would frequently be absent. She would never give me a straight reason as to why she would be gone, but I knew every time that her duties stretched far beyond that of anybody else that I knew. She was working with Humans, those strange, noisy creatures that were so rarely seen. My parents were more than happy to supervise me on such days, but when Toby was around she would pick me up from my school tree and tutor me for a few hours, before helping me home. She had become something of a third parent, which both Mother and Father acknowledged without issue.

   At first, Toby insisted that I kept my gift to myself, but even she acknowledged that both my and her family members would soon let the fact slip, and I found more and more visitors climbing our home tree in the morning, eager to meet me and my family. My parents didn’t mind the attention, and nor did I to an extent, but it sometimes became a bit overwhelming, especially during story nights and other such gatherings, when our people would badger me with questions. I never quite understood their curiosity, because Toby was still so reluctant to share her experiences, and on a couple of occasions I became irritated by the attention and left home for an early night’s sleep.

   I started at the school tree about a week after my first meeting with Toby. I was a little resistant to the idea at first, not feeling the need to go when I was already learning from what I had already realised was a more reliable source of information, but both my parents and Toby insisted vehemently that I should attend, not only to be with those of a similar age, but also because they would teach things on a more practical side than mathematics and literacy. Things like how to cut specific barks, how to plant new trees, how to build nests, were apparently just as important, especially when it came to my own well-being.

   They also taught us what kinds of bark to avoid eating. I didn’t pay attention at the time, but when I became violently ill a few days later after eating infected pine bark, I decided that perhaps school wasn’t such a bad idea.

   The concept of school, I have found since, is similar but not quite the same as the Human ideal. With Humans, juveniles are separated into groups according to age, and spend a specific amount of time sat in large buildings, either paying attention to their teachers and doing homework, or lazing off and tormented their fellow pupils. Hork-Bajir schools, however, never really have set hours, and most of the time is spent practically. The teacher gathers _kawatnoj_ of varying ages at a designated school tree, and from there decides what will be taught, and takes us all to whatever destination is suited to that lesson. For example, if we were to be taught how to cut bark from a maple, we would spend the day in a host of maple trees. We could leave whenever we wanted to, unless the teacher deemed a specific lesson important enough for us to require the information. For the most part, I would doss around and play games with my peers.

   I was not shy when it came to making friends, having spent a good amount of time before attending school introducing myself to the other _kawatnoj_ in the local area. As soon as I began, I already found myself in a small gang. When time would allow, we would do all the things that _kawatnoj_ should do, like frantic games, exploring and finding new places, and even playing the occasional prank on some unsuspecting locals. I was an immature, developing juvenile doing what any immature, developing juvenile would do, before I aged and became a more mature, calmed individual that all Hork-Bajir become when adulthood sets in.

   Toby was to be away for a week. A week is seven days, she had told me, and she had been gone for six, so I didn’t expect her to be around to tutor me after school. Mother or Father would take me home, or perhaps Lenk, though that was a much rarer occurrence. Mother was the one to drop me off at the school tree on that particular day, and she left me with a long kiss and wished me good luck, still so attached to me and unwilling to leave me without her parental supervision. Once she had left in search of some chore to get on with, I joined up with my closest friends in ascending the large Cottonwood tree that was a designated meeting point.

   My closest friends consisted of two male _kawatnoj_ not living too far from my own home tree. Ruga was about the same age as me, and about the same height, but his unusually down-turned arm blades and stumpy tail were traits I often teased him about in the usual childish manner. He didn’t mind it, and he often had his own ways of getting back at me. According to him, I had fat toes.

   Pluk was older than both I and Ruga, and though it was just by a few weeks, his height would make anyone think he was much older. He was massively tall for his age, and built sturdily to match. Nevertheless, he had a particularly sensitive sense of humour, and even the sound of crickets in the evenings would send him into fits of giggles.

   I had plenty of other friends, but Pluk and Ruga were the closest, and at the school tree it was exceedingly hard to separate us. I had no real enemies, but considering that Hork-Bajir naturally don’t make enemies due to our docile and peaceful natures, that was no surprise.

   It turns out that Hork-Bajir as a species do have enemies, but I would find out about that later.

   There was something else about that period in my life which I am often ashamed to admit. I was a bit of a bully. Actually, perhaps _bully_ is too strong a word. A bully, in Human terms, is someone who is violent towards others, or deliberately hurtful, usually for egotistical benefits. Hork-Bajir aren’t really capable of those things, nor are we willing to do them, so perhaps a better word to describe me at the time would be troublesome. Sometimes I would say things that could be considered hurtful, but I was still at an age where I had no filter, and thoughts would often fly from my mouth unchecked.  Coupled with my rapidly increasing vocabulary and, dare I say, cockiness born from all the attention I had been receiving, I may have said things to some peers that I wish I could take back now. In one such case, I would trade anything to take back what I said…

   “Taku slow today.” Ruga called down from above me, already reaching the canopy of the Cottonwood where a few of our peers were waiting. “Maybe Taku toes slow Taku down.”

   Pluk reacted with his signature laugh, having reached the canopy before the both of us. “Taku too busy make think.” He said, tapping his temple with a claw.

   I grunted back up to them, increasing my climbing pace to prove them wrong. “I don’t have fat toes, and I don’t think too hard to climb.”

   I pulled myself up between two dispersing branches and leant myself against the most upright one. Above and below us, sat among the various other branches of the large Cottonwood were the rest of our school, most of whom were the product of last year’s breeding season. They chirped and chattered between themselves, wondering where Meeg Hapul, our teacher, would take us today.

   “Pluk want go to hot springs.” Pluk muttered, wrapping his arms over his chest and rubbing at his upper arms. “Pluk cold.”

   “Go to hot springs yesterday.” Ruga mentioned. “And Pluk always cold.”

   “Pluk not.” He grumbled. “See snow yesterday.”

   I baulked in disbelief. “You didn’t see snow. It too early for snow.”

   Pluk shook his head. “Not too early! See snow yesterday. That way.” He pointed off in a northerly direction, a look of absolute conviction on his face.

   “No. Toby told me that-” I hesitated, suddenly finding a flaw in Pluk’s assertion. “Have you ever see snow before?” I asked him.

   He blinked. “Pluk… No.”

   “So how you know if you see snow if you not know what snow is?”

   He remained silent, puzzled and seeking an explanation that never came.

   “What is snow?” Ruga asked.

   I smiled and stood up straight from the branch that I had leant on. “Toby Hamee told me about snow. Snow is cold and white, and it fall from the sky.”

   Ruga huffed. “Why Toby Hamee so special? Taku always talk about Toby Hamee.”

   “Toby Hamee is _different_. Like Taku.” Pluk explained to him.

   “Toby Hamee have fat toes, too?” Ruga teased. I barked my disapproval at him. Pluk laughed.

   Pluk uttered a shiver, blowing condensed air from his nostrils. “Pluk want talk about something warm.”

   “Like what?” I asked.

   He paused to think, then a relieved smile struck his face, and he leaned back into his nook, cooing. “Talk about camp fire. Warm camp fire.”

   I smiled, recalling the feeling of cool nights, warming myself by the heat of a fire in the midst of friends and family. “A good story, too.”

   Pluk nodded and grinned. “Good story. Story about being warm.”

   We took a moment to relish the feeling of comfort, and I found myself relaxed against the branch again, eyes drooping lazily.

   “This boring.” Ruga interjected. “Where is Meeg Hapul?”

   I snorted a laugh. “Meeg Hapul is too fat to climb the tree.”

   It was partly true. She _was_ on the chunkier side, relative to other Hork-Bajir, at least.

   I noticed that Pluk didn’t laugh, and that was totally unexpected. Ruga had wrapped his hand over his snout.

   “Taku Kelmut be nice.” The voice of Meeg spoke from behind me. I turned and looked her in the eyes. She appeared unaffected by my comment, probably because she had gotten so used to my careless comments.

   Of course, I never tried to say such things in her presence, but she always managed to turn up when I least expected it.

   She yawned widely, brushing off my comment and turning to address the entire group. “Meeg here now! We cut fir bark today!”

   There was a collective groan.

   Meeg chuckled to herself, before descending down the tree trunk. “Follow Meeg!”

   After making a few of my peers laugh when I over-exaggerated the shaking of the tree when Meeg climbed down, the group of us followed her over the open land that surrounded the collection of Cottonwood trees and over to the much denser collection of trees where the Douglas-firs were.

   The Douglas-firs were large trees, with thick bark that was hard to cut into at such a young age. Not only that, but the bark itself wasn’t particularly tasty. Apparently it was useful for other things, but that was something else that I had neglected to pay attention to. We arrived on the edge of the fir collection, passing by a patch of saplings that we as a group had planted just last week.

   Meeg stopped us beside a large fir that already had the bark around its base harvested. A pile of loose, cut-up bark had been left between two out-sticking roots, prepared specifically for our lesson. Meeg held up one of the slices and turned to face us.

   “This fir bark.” She stated, waving the thick slab in the air for all to see. “Meeg tell you how to cut fir bark before. Remember?”

   The group muttered amongst itself, neither a yes nor a no.

   Meeg nodded, and proceeded to hand out each individual slab of bark, an indicator or how our harvest should look. We all had to resist the urge to nibble at it, something which would have been impossible were the bark more desirable.

   There was a short lesson to witness on how exactly to harvest the bark. Meeg easily sliced into the trunk with her wrist blade, telling us to keep the angle of impact straight so as to avoid accidental snaps. From there, she proceeded to create several indentations until she was happy enough to utilise her elbow blades. Within a minute, she held a perfect slice of bark for us to witness.

   “Now you do.” She suggested, pointing to dense collection of firs to the left. Then she began to eat the bark that she had just cut, and I silently provided my companions with another fat joke. Pluk’s laughing almost gave me away.

   We segregated ourselves, I of course being with Pluk and Ruga, and together we found a rather pathetic fir, one that hadn’t yet been chosen by our peers. The bark looked twisted and unpleasant. The runt of the litter, so to speak.

   Ruga huffed. “Need better tree. This bark no good.”

   I wholeheartedly agreed, cursing our luck that in wasting time kicking around a stray pine cone, we had taken the last choice of tree. Despite our optimism, climbing up the trunk to see if the bark improved higher up, there was nothing salvageable. At least, nothing that wouldn’t likely make us ill.

   My friends, once they had given up looking, settled at the base of the tree, and proceeded to groom themselves to cure the boredom. Meanwhile, my calculative mind was still searching, working out how best to succeed on our mission. The other firs all contained our peers who had split off, and we couldn’t take from their trees, because the harvestable patches were too small to occupy more than three individuals. Perhaps there were more firs in another direction…

   Suddenly, the sound of bark being sliced from our left. Considering that the rest of our school group was to our right, it meant that someone else was taking bark from the firs. I twisted my neck to look past a few pines, seeing a couple more firs nearby. They looked far more appetising than the one that we originally found ourselves with.

   There was somebody up in the canopy, stood on a few out-thrusting branches and holding onto the trunk. On closer look, he was an adult male, on his own to gather what I assumed to be his breakfast, perhaps for his mate, assuming he had one.

   I hatched a plan.

   Jumping past Ruga and Pluk, I threw my wrist blade square into the bark of our runty tree. After a couple of minutes struggling, doing my best to pry free a slab, I managed to tear off an excessively large piece. I knocked on it, making sure that it wasn’t rotting or too damp.

   “What Taku do?” Ruga questioned, watching me closely but staying seated.

   I grinned mischievously, holding up the flat piece of bark against my chest. “We are getting some bark.”

   Pluk looked puzzled. “But this tree have bad bark.”

   “Not from _this_ tree.”

   I briefed them on the plan that I had conjured, something not too unlike the pranks we had performed in the past, and this time it provided a benefit, not just enjoyment. Ruga and Pluk were, as usual, slow on the uptake, but on the third attempt at explaining it, they got the gist.

   “Taku is _different_.” Pluk mentioned, something that I had begun to hear quite regularly, whenever I did or said something that others considered a little above their heads. The prank wasn’t too complicated, but I highly doubted that any normal Hork-Bajir would come up with it. For one thing, it involved depriving the adult of his food (for now), and any ordinary Hork-Bajir wouldn’t see that as an option.

   But then, I was no ordinary Hork-Bajir.

   The three of us waited nearby as the adult busied himself, ripping shreds of bark from his tree until he had enough, and he could carry no more. When he finally left, bark under his arms, we sprang into action. I had already pierced a hole at one end of our own strip of bark, and looped a rope through it that Pluk had made from strong fibres. We then hurried over to the small patch of firs and dispersed, sniffing our ways up and down different trees, using our senses of sight, touch and smell to detect the best harvesting spot, knowing full well that if the adult returned, he would find the same location and harvest it for himself.

   We found our best spot, and from there we looked for the nearest sturdy branches, and we required at least two, both of which needed to stick out at a shallow angle and be a small-enough distance apart so that our slab could sit comfortably on top of them. Fortunately, an almost perfect pair of branches was just below the harvesting patch. With some more rope, we tied the slab down to just one of the branches, creating a hinge. When we pulled on the rope that we had looped through the bark from below, the whole slab flipped upwards. Once secured, we retreated to the base of the tree and hid among the undergrowth.

   Everything was in place, and now we just had to wait.

   We didn’t have to wait long, and the adult returned with a big smile on his face and a spring in his step. For a moment I felt a little guilty for what we were about to do, but I had assured myself and the others that we would make it up to him later. He eagerly began exploring the trees, hugging himself to the trunks and sniffing out a prime location to begin his second round of harvesting.

   As expected, he settled on the area with the most appealing bark, and seeing a large flat slab nearby where he could safely deposit his cuttings, he couldn’t quite believe his luck. He thrust a wrist blade into the tree and began the harvest.

   Pluk giggled. Not wanting our presence to be announced, Ruga and I shushed him. I held my hands firmly around the rope that was attached to the hinged slab up above, ready to pull when the time was right.

   The adult finished his first cutting. He held it, inspected it for anything amiss, and kneeled down to drop it on the slab we had laid. Happy with its security, he went back to cutting up the trunk.

   I yanked the rope, and the slab flicked upwards, thrusting the newly-cut bark into the air and down towards us. Ruga caught it with a grin and dropped it between us. The system worked perfectly.

   Pluk giggled again, and we shushed him with a little more force this time. He clutched both hands around his snout, but still chuckled away silently. Meanwhile, I was grinning, proud of the trap that I had set and its performance thus far.

   The adult had sliced up his second piece, and he bent down again. The second bark hit the now-descended slab, but before he could turn back towards the trunk he performed an almost cartoonish double-take, noticing that the first piece had vanished seemingly into thin air. He froze for a few seconds, and I could see the confusion and uncertainty run over his face.

   He shook it off, likely thinking that it had simply slipped off the side, and went back to his harvest, completely unaware of our trick. I almost burst out laughing, myself.

   This time around, in order to avoid his suspicion forcing him to search elsewhere, we let him build a larger pile on the slab. Once I had counted eight pieces of bark being deposited, I warned Ruga and pulled the rope once more. The bark rained down upon us, but Ruga performed his task well and stopped the bigger pieces from causes any alerting noise. I loosened my grip on the rope slowly for it to reposition.

   On this occasion, the adult took far more notice when the eight slabs of bark he had collected disappeared. He stared closely at the depositing slab, bending down to prod it and inspect its sturdiness. Then he looked past it, wondering if perhaps the bark had all fallen over the side. He would see nothing, as we had hidden out of sight and taken the fallen pieces with us.

   “Kee-RAW!”

   His head bolted around as Pluk’s unhindered laughter echoed through the trees. Thankfully, as if some miracle had shone down upon us, the distance between us and him made the laugh’s location difficult to pinpoint. However, I got the feeling that the adult was on the verge of sussing that he was being tricked.

   I shook my head at Pluk, who had clamped his snout shut again, looking quite embarrassed. Knowing full well that it would happen again, I kicked a piece of rope to Ruga, who tied it tightly around Pluk’s snout. Pluk couldn’t resist laughing at the situation, but now his laughter consisted of muffled huffs and his cheeks bulging on exhale.

   The adult, now cautious and paranoid, slowly began to chip away at his tree again, frequently turning to gaze at the slab where his third pile was building. Nevertheless, with precise timing, I was once again able to fling the new pile of 13 pieces without him noticing.

   He barked when he turned to find it missing again. He had grown angry.

   “This Yuru bark!” He shrieked. “Where bark go?!”

   Ruga and I snickered. Pluk’s eyes were beginning to water. This was tremendous fun.

   And then another idea popped into my head.

   “My name is Tree!” I shouted up to him. While I spoke, I pulled on the slab rope in time with each syllable. Yuru gaped noticeably, my timing convincing enough that he thought the slab itself was speaking to him.

   “Thank you for your bark!” I continued. “Very tasty. Mmmm.”

   Yuru was frozen completely, barely able to stammer out nonsense syllables.

   “Tree is angry with Yuru! Yuru stand on Tree so long! Poke Tree with your claws! Scratch Tree with your blades!”

   Yuru shook his head, placing his hands to his snout and chewing on his claws, a saddened look in his eyes.

   “Now Tree is mad!” I exclaimed, resisting the urge to break into a fit of laughter. “Tree take all of Yuru’s bark! Yuru must appease Tree!”

   Yuru whimpered, his tail quivering and held between his legs. “Yuru sorry, Tree…”

   “Yuru must bring blankets to Tree! All of Yuru’s blankets. Yuru must put the blankets on Tree’s roots, so Tree doesn’t get cold!”

   The adult sobbed loudly. “But… But Yuru… But… Tree…”

   “Go!” I screeched.

   He sure did go. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone disappear so speedily since.

   Now I was unable to resist the itch in my chest, and both I and Ruga were soon writhing on the ground, succumbing to the laughter that had been fighting to escape. Pluk tore away the rope around his snout and joined us.

   “Work so good!” Ruga commented when he had finally caught his breath. “Now have so much good bark!”

   I nodded. “We have enough. Let’s take it all to Meeg and hope she not eat it all.”

   With plenty of barks clutched under our arms, we made our way happily back to the edge of the woods where Meeg was waiting, grooming her wrist blades. She seemed totally convinced that the bark we held was our own, and she even told us how well we had done, how expertly it had been cut. Once again, we had to stop Pluk from spoiling the secret with his laughter, and he continued to snicker and giggle when we returned to the woods, leaving the entire collection of bark beside the tree for Yuru to find when he came to plant blankets at its base.

   With the day’s lesson pretty much finished, it was time to play, something that, as _kawatnoj_ , we did very well. I needed to pass the time before my supervisor arrived, anyway.

   Today we were playing a game called Catch. We use pinecones, and Pluk had found a very large, hefty one for us to throw around. I was never the best at Catch, and Pluk, being the most athletically built of the three of us, was always able to beat us.

   “Pluk throw too hard!” Ruga moaned when he failed to catch a throw that was perhaps three feet from his reach.

   “Ruga too slow.” Pluk countered, sticking out his long tongue and punctuating it with a laugh.

   Ruga grumbled and picked up the loose pinecone. He raised his arm, pulled back, and tossed it over to me. I caught it with ease, thanks to his accurate throw.

   I heard footsteps padding up behind me as I was about to launch the pinecone to Pluk. I turned to see Relk, a female of my age, smiling up at me. She was a familiar face, but only from my time with the school group. I never spent time with her outside of such locations, either due to distance or because I didn’t feel the need to. She was quite short for her age, but her blades were pronounced and deep in colour, her tail lengthy and thick.

   “Hello, Taku Kelmut.” She squeaked.

   “Hello, Relk.” I mumbled.

   Her appearance, and her interruption of our game, was uninteresting to me. I wanted to play my game, and wasn’t in the mood to talk to near-strangers.

   Relk, however, was obviously bored, and she slithered up to me, a big grin on her snout. “Taku play Catch.” She noted.

   “Yes, I am playing Catch.” I replied, preparing once again to throw the pinecone to Pluk.

   “Relk like Catch.”

   My throw was again interrupted, and I huffed indignantly. “Okay. I like Catch, too. So, I will play Catch with Ruga and Pluk.”

   Relk pushed herself in front of me, insistent. “Relk play Catch, too?”

   “No,” I snapped, weary of her intrusion. “This game is for me, Ragu and Pluk. You not allowed to play.”

   Her smile dropped instantaneously, her whole form slumping. “Why Relk not play?”

   “Relk snout too big.” I responded.

   She put a hand over it, offended. “Relk snout not too big!”

   I laughed. “It is! Your snout is as big as Meeg’s belly.”

   Relk had had enough, and with a sad sob she sprinted away. She wouldn’t be interrupting our games again for a while.

   Toby retrieved me a short while later, having returned early from her duties elsewhere, when Pluk had dominated the game of Catch enough for us to give up and sit around feeding for the remaining time. When she asked me how my day of school was, I avoided telling her how I had pranked one of our fellow people and rather selfishly denied a fellow _kawatnoj_ entry into our game. Somehow, though, I don’t think my impersonation of a perfect student was convincing to her. It was as if she knew that I was up to no good, but that she didn’t care. She probably didn’t _need_ to care. After all, I was just a _kawatnoj_ , and in time I would grow up to be a sensible, mature adult.

   But things that you do when you are young may have a dramatic effect on you as you age. Toby said nothing about that at first. I’m sure that she left it for me to figure out on my own.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

I was quickly accustoming to life in Yellowstone National Park. As I grew older, I grew a little wiser, a little more knowledgeable about the area that I called home. I was getting taller, too, now a little under half the size of my parents, just large enough now to supply my own warmth when the coldest months of the year rolled in. The park was coated in snow, and most of our people spent the days eating the food they had collected, hanging around the wonderful hot springs and sleeping for about fifteen hours a day. (I knew that because Toby had since taught me about time. Hours, minutes, seconds, etc… She even provided me with something called an alarm clock.) School days were still just as frequent, however, to take advantage of our rapidly developing _kawatnoj_ brains. Most of us were now at the stage where we could harvest bark with our parents without constant supervision. Father was delighted at how eager I was to aid him in the daily harvests.

   Toby was, once again, absent from the park. I found that the longer I spent with her, the more information I could deduce from the way she acted, and a few days before she left on a trip to Washington D.C., some place I imagined was pretty far away, I could sense her growing nerves. She was a little edgy, agitated. Strange how, seeing those moments of weakness in her, I learned much more about her than when she was smiling or playing with her family. I realised that her duties with the Humans, something which I knew would someday fall to me, were a constant source of anxiety and stress. She couldn’t stand it, and she relished the time spent with me and the rest of my people more than I could have thought. It didn’t fill me with much hope for my own future, and the pain of her stress was something I often found seeping its way into my own psyche.

   She brought books for me to read. At first it was all very colourful and exciting, with books like _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ and _The Cat in the Hat_ , which I found utterly delightful. I thought that I had mastered books, but my cockiness was misplaced when Toby brought back more books that were a little more advanced. There were more words to a page, with finer print and a more complicated language. I took them back to my tree as homework, but the more I brought back, the more my family would hijack them to marvel at the colourful illustrations within. They loved them, too, but for different reasons entirely.

   Lenk never took much part. In fact, he was rarely home whenever I got back.

   The books were full of situations and subjects that were completely unfamiliar to me. I would always be asking the nearest adult what a particular word meant, what some strange object was that I had never heard of before, and about solutions which often baffled me. There was so much of the world that I had not explored, and even back then I knew that the park we inhabited was but the tiniest speck of a diverse world, and in each book there was something new to learn. Creatures that I could never have imagined, places that seemed so perfect and places that seemed so distressing.

   But Toby was keeping secrets from me again. Not only had she still spoken little of her own past, but when she chose books for me to read, I could tell that they had gone through a selection process. There were books in her tree that she would not permit me to read, even though my skills were at a level high enough. It frustrated me that even after all this time, there were still so many secrets that she held.

   She knew everything about me. Yes, probably everything. She would be the first I ran to after being berated by my parents for some silly prank I pulled, the only one I shared my problems with. She was the only one who seemed to understand my situations on more than just an emotional level. She was my guide. But whenever I spilled my guilts and pains to her, I would get a caring soul and nothing else in return. I had confronted her about it, and yet she still revealed nothing, but implored me to trust her.

   Anyway, she was away again, which meant that my private tutoring sessions were no longer a part of my daily routine. When the school hours were over, I usually went off to do some exploring with Pluk, Ruga, and occasionally other peers before Mother or Father came to collect me. The winter was at its peak, so we wasted no time on that particular day in beginning a snowman (or snow-Bajir, which I suppose is more technically correct).

   “This boring.” Ruga complained in his usual style.

   I groaned, having almost applied the finishing touches to our, admittedly, poor effort. It looked less like a Hork-Bajir and more like just a big dollop of snow from the tree above us. It had pinecones for eyes, at least.

   “It’s nearly done.” I explained, patting down the snow that formed the “neck”.  “What would you suggest we do instead?”

   Ruga and Pluk gazed at me.

   “Ugh,” I grumbled, hating to always have to repeat myself in a way more accessible to them. “What do you want to do?”

   “Something warm.” Pluk shivered. “Snow is cold. Pluk feet cold.”

   “Very cold.” Ruga agreed. “Go somewhere warm.”

   Pluk perked up, an idea popping into his head. “Explore! Find somewhere warm!”

   I nodded, becoming irritated by the cold snow, myself. I took a moment to consider our options, searching my memory for places devoid of snow. I thought of the hot springs, and how maybe that would be the best place to start.

   “Find Humans!” Pluk offered. “Humans always in warm places.”

   It was a good point, and one that I was sure I should have thought of first. “Yes. They always seem to be in warm places.” I mused.

   “What is Humans?” Ruga queried.

   Pluk laughed in disbelief. “Ruga not know Humans?”

   Ruga closed his eyes to search through his memory. It didn’t take long for him to reassert, “No. What is Humans?”

   “Humans small.” Pluk commented. “Not have blades, and sound very… very…” Instead of finding a suitable word, he continued to perform a scarily accurate high-pitched ramble, consisting of nonsense words but being very Human in style.

   I nodded to Ruga. “They look very strange. Father showed them to me before.”

   He huffed childishly. “Ruga father never show Ruga Humans…”

   “I’m sure he would have done in time.” I assured him. “Anyway, we can go find some now. I know the perfect place.”

   I guided Pluk and Ruga away from the failed snowman and towards an area I had only visited once. Despite the sole visit, I remembered the area well when I recalled the locations of various landmarks. There was a large deposit of rocks in small clearing, and there was a stream running southwards from the mountains.

   We came to a fence that lined the barrier of a cluster of trees. Pluk and Ruga were amazed at the structure, and they dawdled for a while as they inspected the wood-and-wire obstacle. However, their amusement at the fence was soon dwarfed by their reaction to the building that I had visited months ago.

   Nothing had changed, but for the accumulation of a thick layer of snow on the roof. Lights shone through the small square holes in the building’s sides, and a spotty collection of cars (who I had familiarised myself with from a couple of books Toby had allowed me to read) on a flat black ground lay around the edges. It looked so invitingly warm, despite its ambiguously cold outer appearance.

   Pluk and Ruga were utterly entranced by the foreign structure. It wasn’t long before the decision to visit came under scrutiny.

   “This where find Humans?” Pluk asked me, perched on the fence beside me.

   “Yes. I have seen Humans in here before. They move around the park in those things there.” I pointed out the “beasts” that surrounded the building. “They’re called cars.”

   They both went silent, not particularly interested in the cars but in the massive structure that was like no tree they had ever seen before.

   “Ruga not want to go…” Ruga whined, retreating down from the fence and shivering from more than just the frozen snow.

   “You are scared?” I laughed.

   “Ruga always scared.” Pluk joined, impersonating Ruga’s shivering and chuckling along with me.

   Ruga, forced into an awkward position, raised his body to appear unaffected by our taunts. “Ruga not scared! Big scary tree not scary!”

   “Ruga come with Taku and Pluk, then.” Pluk suggested with a big grin on his face.

   “Yes, Ruga,” I tried persuasively. “Come with us. Or stay in the snow.”

   Ruga whined and stamped his right foot in annoyance. “Ruga not want to stay in snow. Snow cold.”

   “Then come with Taku and Pluk.” Pluk suggested, already throwing his tall frame over the wire fence. “Big tree look warm.”

   I followed Pluk in passing the fence, and Ruga, though reluctantly, soon followed along with a grumble. We came to the edge of the snow and onto the black ground on which the building and the cars sat, and an instant feeling of loving warm shot up our legs, our feet no longer entrenched in a thick layer of snow. Of course, we were still cold, but the removal of the troublesome snow came as a great relief. We jogged forward towards the building, dodging a few stray cars along the way.

   “Car is strange.” Pluk commented as we passed the first one, a shiny blue one that held a thin layer of snow on its top. Being exceptionally tall, almost at average adult height despite his age, he had to look downwards to observe more than just the layer of snow.

   “Humans go inside them.” I mentioned, stepping to his side. “I don’t know how they get in, though.”

   Pluk moved his head closer, lowering his self slightly to press his snout to a transparent layer on the car’s upper half. Intrigued, he proceeded to raise his claws and placed them on its side.

   He seemed amazed by the interior. “What is funny stuff inside?” He punctuated with a laugh. None of us had an answer to the question.

   Ruga joined Pluk in gazing inside, as did I. He was the first to lose interest, however.

   “Still cold. Go inside big tree now?” Ruga urged.

   “Yes. Go inside now.” Pluk agreed. He retreated his face from the car and began to leave, but in the process his claws scraped painfully down the side of the car’s blue body. The high-pitched, harsh sound made us all cover our ears.

   The car now bore a number of distinct scratches on the side. None of us knew of any significance, so we thought nothing of it. I have since learned that Humans prize their cars very much, and even superficial scratches send them into hysterics. Thankfully, we never bore the wrath of the Human whose car we had damaged, because we moved along quite speedily.

   The task of gaining entry to the building was one that at first seemed daunting, but when we heard activity coming from the side, we jumped behind another car just as we noticed a Human exiting through two large “flaps” in the distance. The Human was quite pale, but with a dark patch of hair on its head. It wore a bizarre collection of clothing that included a seemingly pointless droopy blue piece of cloth strung around the neck. It headed away from us and towards a random car elsewhere.

   “That is Humans?” Ruga asked, before breaking down into giggles. “Humans look funny.”

   “Yes. Humans funny.” Pluk agreed, standing up tall when the Human had walked out of sight.

   I looked over to where the Human had emerged from. The two rigid flaps in the building’s side were our way in, so I looked around for signs of any Humans before sprinting over. We arrived at the two flaps, and after a cursory glance, I wrapped my hands around the large cylindrical pieces of metal present on each. I pulled them open, and was greeted with a wonderful, warm breeze.

   The three of us almost collapsed, satisfied by the sudden rise in temperature.

   “Warm…” Pluk whispered.

   I nodded my agreement and happily basked in the warm current of air that rushed out to us. Looking inside the building, there was a large open area flourished in bright lights that led down a long path. There were more large “flaps” on each side. I saw no Humans.

   I took a few tentative steps until I breached the boundary to the inside. My feet moved from a rough, stony layer to an unnervingly smooth one. My toe nails clicked against the surface, and I heard more behind me when Pluk and Ruga followed. We let the flaps close behind us, and now we were fully inside. We were most definitely curious, and the three of us spent a considerable time observing the immediate environment.

   It was quite spectacular. Large rectangular objects above us cast down light, as if the sun had been cut up and stored within a transparent layer in order to help us see. The walls were perfectly flat, so they obviously weren’t natural, but made by the hands of Humans.

   “What that mean?” I heard Ruga ask. I followed his pointed finger to a small rectangular piece on the wall. It had numbers and letters depicted on it.

   “It says, “Offices 1-12”, that way.” I pointed down the corridor.

   “What is offices wontootwelve?” Pluk asked.

   I smiled. “I think we should find out.”

   We strolled down the long narrow pathway further into the building, toe nails clipping rhythmically below us. I was certain that the noise would attract the attention of nearby Humans, but none ever came, even as we were passing by the lines of flaps in the walls which no doubt led to the “offices”. Each flap was numbered, and I counted our way to the end of the corridor. There was another pair of flaps at the very end, but these ones held transparent layers that allowed us to peek through. On the other side was a massive open area, comprising of a much more impressive décor. In the centre of the circular room was a large elevated piece of rock, out of which sprayed a great fountain of water, and the walls around the fountain opened up to varying areas, each one topped with a logoed banner.  One of the banners said _Ticket Office_. Another was a red background with a large curvy yellow “M”. The others were a little harder to see.

   There were Humans. Not many, but enough to stop us going through.

   I heard Ruga whimper. “Too many Humans.” He muttered.

   “It’s okay,” I hushed him. “We don’t need to go in there. It’s warm enough here.”

   Our attentions were diverted with a loud creaking noise from our right. We turned to see Pluk, hand pressing against the flap in the wall labelled number seven. He swivelled his neck around to peek inside.

   “Any Humans?” I asked him.

   “No Humans.” He answered before pushing the flap fully open and walking inside.

   Curiosity again piqued, I pursued him inside. The first thing to tug at my eyes was a large raised surface in the centre, topped by a few piles of paper and a big white boxy object. I had seen one in a book before, and I was sure that it was called a computer.

   The walls were much more alive with colour, in the form of large sheets of paper coated in words and letters and exaggerated illustrations. One of them displayed quite a muscly Human wearing blue and red clothing, with a large “S” on its front. The accompanying words read _Superman Returns_.

   There was no lighting in the office, so it was a little darker, but not too much that we couldn’t make out the objects around us. We proceeded to explore, something that we all considered ourselves experts at.

   “Ruga find food!” I heard from across the room as I delved head first into a small basket on the floor. Moments later, Ruga raised his voice again, but this time it was a nonsensical expression of disgust. Whatever food he had found, he didn’t like the taste of it.

   I gave up on my small basket. All I could find was scrunched-up bits of paper and some mucus-covered tissues. Nothing edible, nor anything of real interest. My companions had been rustling through all the office paperwork and files, creating quite a mess. Pluk was chewing on a damp piece of scrunched paper, and Ruga was equally appetised by a set of pencils, some of which he chewed on, the others he seemed to be playing a little game with.

   “Pluk like it here.” Pluk mentioned, now rummaging beside the computer.

   “I like it, too,” I said. “But I don’t think we should stay here long. A Human may come in.”

   Pluk laughed loudly. Loudly enough that both I and Ruga shushed him.

   “We close big bit of wood.” Pluk suggested, heading back to the flap in the wall and pushing it shut. “Now no Human see Pluk, Taku and Ruga.”

   I saw a major flaw in that plan, but I didn’t think it really mattered. After all, Toby had assured me that the local Humans had no issue with Hork-Bajir presence, so I doubted anything bad would happen were we to be found. The only thing that worried me was the consequence if my parents found out.

   Even if we were caught, I didn’t think Mother or Father would find out. The Humans wouldn’t tell them. At least, that’s what I hoped.

   I shook the thoughts away to see Pluk once again examining the elevated space around the computer. He picked up a large rectangular object in his hand and inspected it closely. Half of the outer layer had been peeled away, revealing a dark brown block, separated into small cubes.

   “What this?” Pluk asked. Ruga plodded over to have a look for himself.

   I craned my neck to inspect the flat object he held. “I saw one of those in a book once. That’s a chocolate bar.”

   “Choclit bar…” Pluk mused. “What it do?”

   “Humans eat them.” I told him. “They seem to like them.”

   Before I could advise against it, Pluk raised the bar to his snout and plonked the entire confection into his mouth. By the time I voiced my objection, he had chewed and swallowed it. Wrapper included.

   “How it taste?” Ruga asked of him.

   Pluk was still evaluating the taste, licking his lips and gulping down what remained. Then, he dropped his jaw and gagged, nausea in his expression. “Not taste good.” He explained.

   Ruga and I both laughed. Pluk then joined in, though he still looked displeased with the taste of the chocolate.

   We went back to rummaging, and it didn’t take me long to find something that directed my attention. On the other side of the room lay a Human construction made of filed wood that housed objects on three ascended platforms. Most of the objects were books, and those were exactly what I was looking for.

   I pulled books from their home one at a time, carefully observing the front covers to find something of interest. Most of them were academic, information that I couldn’t quite understand. I was quite, no, _very_ interested in books with pictures. They were my favourites.

   I was about to give up hope on finding anything that was either readable or intriguing to me, but one of the last books I removed was most definitely suitable. It was called _Hork-Bajir: An Illustrated Guide_. The image on the front was one of group sat, huddled around a blazing campfire. I found that pictures were plentiful within the large, if thin book. I withdrew to the office chair and began to read, while the other two played some game using a box of paper clips they had encountered.

   The book was like nothing I had read before. For one thing, it wasn’t a story, more a documentation of our people. Other than that, it was much more in-depth than what I was used to, and a lot of the language used was unfamiliar and strangely formed. Words popped up that I had never encountered before, their meanings evading me. The most prominent included those such as _war_ , _slavery_ and _Yeerks_. The words meant nothing to me.

   I was surprised to see that Toby Hamee was mentioned a few times. Maybe someday I could be in a book like this. I was a _seer_ like her, after all. Surely that was why she was mentioned so often. Though, her mother was mentioned a few times as well, and I knew that she wasn’t like Toby as soon as I had met her.

   I lost myself in the book, finding a section on Hork-Bajir culture that I could read with better ease and forgetting most of what was going on around me. I was enjoying the book very much, and I was disappointed knowing that I could only read it for our limited duration in the Human building, but that only made me treasure the time here more fully.

   A disturbing noise filled the room and stole me from my trance. I looked up from my seat over to where Pluk and Ruga were playing their game. Pluk had vomited between them as they sat on the floor, coating the paper clips they played with, and a small proportion of Ruga’s legs, in his stomach contents.

   “Ah!” Ruga yelped, staring down at his vomit-covered legs. “Pluk cheat! Game ruined now!”

   Pluk wiped at his lower jaw and looked to Ruga apologetically. “Choclit not good for Pluk. Make Pluk feel bad. Feel better now, though!”

   Ruga grimaced. “But Ruga dirty now.”

   I sighed and closed the book, though not before marking the page with a loose piece of paper from beside the computer. “I don’t think Human food is good for Hork-Bajir.” I said to Pluk, coming down from my chair to assess the situation.

   He shook his head in agreement. “Not good. Now Pluk thirsty.”

   “There isn’t any water in here.” I noted.

   “See water coming from big rock.” Pluk suggested, reminding us of the large elevated spring in the circular room.

   “But Humans there.” Ruga whined.

   “They wouldn’t hurt us.” I surmised. “Let’s go see if there are any by the water.”

   So far, we had escaped the eyes of any nearby Humans. We had heard the footsteps of one or two as they passed by the room, but none of them came in to see us messing up the office. It had been a while since we heard the last, so we were confident enough to walk out into the longer, narrow pathway again that branched off to other offices. As we suspected, there were no Humans. I had taken the book with me, holding it under my arm, so that I could continue reading while they utilised the spring.

   We kept our guard up and peeked through the transparent part of the flaps that led to the large circular room. The elevated spring in the centre seemed ever more appealing now, with the scent of Pluk’s stomach contents invading the air, and from our angle, we saw no Humans present. In fact, a number of the lights that had previously illuminated the area had ceased, and everything appeared much darker.

   “I can’t see any Humans.” I said quietly.

   Taking that as his cue to move, Pluk pushed open the two flaps into the spring room. The three of us stepped cautiously onto the new floor, turning our heads to investigate the area. Still no Humans around.

   Ruga, satisfied with the situation, jogged over to the spring that gushed noisily in front of us. “Ruga get clean now!” He exclaimed.

   “Ruga,” I called after him. He stopped and faced me. “I think Pluk should drink first.”

   Pluk nodded. “Pluk drink. Then Ruga clean.”

   Pluk strolled to the elevated rock, lowered his body and dipped his snout into the flowing water.

   I sat away from them with my book to quieten the sounds of Pluk’s playful gurgling and Ruga’s splashing as they took advantage of the spring. I opened up to my saved page and once again immersed myself in the words.

   I wasn’t sure how long I had been reading, but I had adjusted so that I was sat on the edge of the spring, one knee folding towards my chest and my tail lazily swishing the water behind me.

   Perhaps reading wasn’t the best idea at the time, because I had no idea what was going on around me.

   “Taku!” I heard from over the sound of rushing water. I lifted my eyes away from the book and took a few cursory glances of the area in front of me. There didn’t seem to be any reason to stop reading, so I didn’t.

   My name was called again, but this time it was more distant. I put the book down and stood up straight so that I could see Pluk and Ruga. They had moved. They were no longer at the side of the spring. A little uncertain, I craned my neck to better observe the room.

   I spotted my companions. They were running back towards the flaps in the wall that we had come from. They must have been playing a game of Chase, a game I enjoyed very much. So I marked my page in the book again, held it under my shoulder, and proceeded to jog in their direction.

   As I circled the spring, I passed the point where the water blocked my view to the right.

   Something moved. It cut off my path and charged before me from behind the spewing water, tall and dark. My feet tangled, slipped on the smooth flooring and I collapsed heavily onto my back, but with the adrenalin that had immediately took control of my body, I scrambled quickly to my feet and bounded in the opposite direction.

   I didn’t look back, afraid to see the large Human following me as I struggled to find a direction to go in. I heard shouting, not Hork-Bajir but Human, and from what I could hear, there was more than one. Going full circle around the spring wasn’t an option, and I couldn’t get back to Pluk and Ruga without being caught.

   Perhaps the Humans that had appeared from seemingly out of nowhere weren’t out to hurt me. That was what I kept telling myself ever since we’d arrived in the building, but the shock of their appearance and the fear of the unknown erased all rational thought from my head. I was running for my life, and I didn’t stop for long enough to assess the predicament.

   There was a pair of flaps in the wall on the other side of the spring, so I went for it and slammed without hesitation through them, finding myself encased within another long passageway, entrances to other rooms stretching out on my left and right. I decided that I would have a better chance the further along I went, so I hurried down to the very end of the pathway, hoping that it led to the outside world like the one we entered into.

   It didn’t. There was a single flap at the end of the passageway, and it led to a cold, dark room filled with the scent of chemicals and dampness. Feeling that it was my best option, I crept inside and closed the flap behind me, determined to wait for the Humans to give up on finding me.

   The room was cold, and I could not see very well. My leg caught on something hard and I almost collapsed to the ground. Eventually, I found somewhere to sit, just out of view of the room’s entrance, in case any Human was to come in. I had dropped my book somewhere back by the spring when I bumped into the first Human, so I only had myself for company.

   I curled up where I sat, nervously picking at the grooves in my tail blades. The room was eerily silent, unwelcoming, the walls so tight and claustrophic.

   Pluk and Ruga may have gotten away. The last I saw of them, they had re-entered the long passageway that led to the outside. How I wished to be outside right now. I wanted familiarity, but there was nothing at all familiar here. Even the air tasted different.

   Minutes passed, and it wasn’t long before I stopped panicking. I knew that I had overreacted. Now, though, I was lost and alone. I started to sob to myself, tucking my limbs over my head.

   Then a beam of light crept over my stray leg. A creak accompanied the opening of the room’s entrance, followed by the clomping of Human footsteps.

   By now, my fear of the Humans had dissipated, replaced by the fear of the environment around me. I lifted my head slowly to look over the box I sat beside to see a Human staring down at me, long, brown hair flowing from its head in curls.

   “Hey,” It spoke. “You shouldn’t be here.”

   I stared at it, partially relieved of its presence but still racked by adrenalin and the cold air.

   The Human reached up to a small device on the wall, and with a click the room was immediately filled with golden light. I saw its face more clearly now.

   “Come on, you’ve got to go back outside. You should go home.”

   I steadily pulled myself up to my feet, still keeping my focus on the Human, whose high-pitched voice gave me the impression that it was a female.

   “Where are my friends?” I asked of her.

   The Human smiled and leant up against the wall. “They’re fine. In fact, they left the building, and then came back to look for you. They’re waiting in the central hall.”

   I sighed. In a way, I was angry at myself for being so childish, so stupid as to isolate myself in such a small room when all I had to do was ask for help. I mistrusted the Humans when I had no reason to.

   She held out a tiny Human hand to me. Seeing the kindness in her, I didn’t hesitate to waddle over and take it. Though I was about half her size, my hand was about double hers, but she didn’t seem to care. She led me out of the cold room and down the illuminated passageway to the central hall.

   “Why were you hiding in the janitor’s closet?” The Human asked.

   “I was running. Now, I don’t think I should have. I guess I was just shocked.”

   The Human came to a stop halfway down the passage. I looked up to see her eyes narrowed right back at me. She appeared stunned, and she curiously eyed me over.

   “What’s your name?” She questioned.

   “My name is Taku Kelmut. What is your name?”

   “Millie.” The Human responded. Then, she bent her knees and came down so that she was at my level. “Taku, could you please tell me why you were here?”

   I shrugged and averted my gaze in a vain attempt to hide my guilt. “It’s very cold outside. We just wanted to find somewhere warm, and we thought that this building would be warm enough.”

   Millie nodded. “Security found a book by the fountain. Did you move it?”

   “Yes, Millie,” I replied. “I was reading it. I dropped it when I saw the Humans. Toby told me not to be scared of the Humans around here, but…” I kicked my right foot lightly against the smooth flooring. “I don’t know.”

   “Toby Hamee?”

   I looked her in the eyes again. “Yes, Toby Hamee.”

   Millie guided me back to the central hall where I was reunited with Pluk and Ruga, who, to my surprise, were introducing themselves to the building’s security guards. I learned from them that after they ran from the building, they noticed that I was still missing and actually searched out the nearest Humans so that they could help locate me. Millie, part of the security team, was the Human I first bumped into, and she saw me run down the passageway to the janitor’s closet. She checked every room in that passageway until she found me.

   Despite the raised spirits and the relief that all turned out well, the building’s security had a few words to say about our trespassing. We accepted the chastisement and left the building, knowing that perhaps our exploring games should be a little more limited from then on.

   The room that we had, to put it bluntly, trashed, belonged to Millie. She seemed to be very kind though, and she held nothing against us. In fact, she let me borrow the book on Hork-Bajir that I had been reading.

   All turned out surprisingly well. That is, until I got home, when my parents berated me for not being present near the school to be picked up. Not only that, but the Humans at the building, determined not to have such an incident occur again, implored me to tell Mother and Father exactly what had happened. I could have mentioned nothing, but my absence from the school grounds was enough to raise their suspicions, and coming home with a new book while Toby was still away in Washington gave them all the clues that they needed. They forced the truth out of me.

   Needless to say, I wasn’t in their good books that night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Mother and Father were angry with me. They shouted at first, and I thought that was bad enough, but then the looks of disappointed came as they always did, and that struck me with a much greater ferocity. It all seemed so unjustified. No one got hurt, nothing got lost, and, in the end, we were just exploring. Exploring was something that our parents actively encouraged. Now, apparently, exploring was a crime.

   The whole time, I put on my sulky- _kawatnoj_ face, crossed my arms and legs and sat hunched over against the trunk of our home tree. Mother and Father left me there to mull over my punishment, but by the time they had seemingly forgiven me, I was still grumpy and refused to join them for an evening meal. Father came to face me after I refused to answer several calls, and I was still stubborn enough to remain silent when he tried to reason with me. Eventually, he left me alone.

   I didn’t feel like I was alone in receiving punishment, at least. I was sure that Ruga and Pluk had been equally chastised. I even thought at one point I heard Pluk’s mother yelp out his name, perhaps as a result of him trying to excuse himself.

   Strangely, my parents seemed to blame Ruga for the day’s escapades. That’s how it came across to me, anyway. They somehow thought that he was a bad influence on me, and strictly told me not to follow him on any of his adventures again. I was about to speak up and mention that it was actually my idea, and that Ruga wasn’t really willing to come along with me to start with, but then I remembered that I was meant to be putting up a stubborn rebellion, and consigned myself to silence.

   I had sneaked my new book with me, and while I was continuing my protest I began to finger through it when I thought no one was looking. It was definitely an interesting read, and there was so much about myself and our people that I had yet to learn, including some stuff that, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t believe I wanted to learn. Did my insides really look like that? How repulsive…

   When night finally rolled in, the family prepared to head out to the large opening by the lake, where they would all partake in yet another story night. They would be huddled closely with others around a roaring, toasty campfire, indulging in some grandiose story about how someone had found a new type of leaf, or a strange previously unheard-of animal. It’s not that the stories were bad, more that they became a bit repetitive, especially to my _seer_ mind. The lives of tree herders aren’t exactly full of adventure and fantasy. There have been exceptions, but not many.

   So my family left for a while, leaving me with no company for as long as it took for them to begin missing the comfort at home. Despite their pleading for reasonableness and their more friendly tone, I told them that I wasn’t interested in going. I thought that when they got back, they would try to talk to me again, but after some fidgeting behind the trunk, all I heard was snoring.

   It was disappointing that there were no further attempts to make everything right again, and it made me realise how pathetic I was being, sulking purely for unjust attention.

   I fell asleep for an unknown period of time. What awoke me was some stirring at my side, and warm breath touching my cold skin.

   “Taku still here.” Mother spoke. I couldn’t see her in the dark, but I could sense her figure slumped beside me.

   “Yes.” I huffed, my stubbornness still present in my tone of voice.

   Mother grunted lightly and put a hand loosely around my wrist. “Taku is cold.”

   I said nothing but lowered my head. Even in the pitch-black of night, I knew that she could sense my embarrassment.

   “Pok sorry for be mad,” Mother said, arching her arm around me to pull me closer. “But Pok have to be mad. So Pok mad. Not mad now.”

   “I don’t think you should have been mad at me.” I stated, still a little resistant to her comforting.

   To my surprise, she laughed. It was quiet enough not to wake those who slept nearby. “Pok is Taku mother. Always know when mad is good. Mothers know always when be mad at _kawatnoj_.”

   I huffed petulantly to express my disagreement.

   “Pok just want Taku safe.” Mother whispered when she realised that I wasn’t cracking. “Pok love Taku. Mago love Taku. Get mad because not want Taku hurt.”

   I couldn’t resist feeling just a little ashamed of myself. For a supposed _seer_ , I wasn’t being particularly smart. In an apologetic expression, I gave into her offer and dropped my head against her chest, with nothing more than an inaudible whisper of _I’m sorry, Mother_.

   Forgiving me of my misdeeds, Mother stood up, and in the dark of the night she slowly guided me back to the sleeping area, where the family slumbered in a tight pile to keep away the winter cold. She re-found her position and allowed me to find a suitable and warm spot beside them. I found shelter from the cool breeze, and fell asleep almost instantly.

 

   Morning came quickly. I had dreams that night, but I could remember nothing more than their presence, which was unusual. My dreams have always been so vivid, and often so telling. I find that dreams are the best way to find solutions. My semi-conscious mind sees through issues so much more clearly because it has no distraction, but the dream I had that night was so inexplicably confusing. I could sense a turning point in my life on the horizon. I didn’t know whether to look forward to it or not.

   I felt that I could sense Toby, and she was so significant. I was a little stunned when I opened my eyes that morning, alone on the sleeping nest, to see her sat on a nearby branch chewing on a small slab of fir bark. Maybe that was why I could sense her.

   As I yawned, I observed the rest of my tree. Father was apparently busy sorting through a pile of various barks, and Mother was just barely hidden from my view, chattering casually to Toby. Lenk was probably with his peers, because he was nowhere to be seen. I got up and stretched my stiff limbs just as Toby noticed that I had awoken. She gazed at me, and it was an expression I had only caught rarely. It was concern, with restrained anger. Suddenly, I wanted to go back to sleep.

   “Hello, Taku.” Toby said. It was a compulsory greeting, but I could tell that such pleasantries were not her priority. She immediately put down her food and stood up on the tree platform.

   Mother seemed blissfully unaware of the true intention of Toby’s visit, and smiled widely at me. “Toby home quick. Come to see Taku.” She turned to Toby, continuing her ignorant grin. “Toby want new bark?”

   “No, thank you.” Toby excused. “I wish to speak to Taku.”

   I tapped my toes nervously against the platform and clutched at my tail. Toby approached, and with a flip of the head, she motioned for me to take her somewhere away from my family. I nodded meekly, turned, and began to guide her through the neighbouring trees and up to the higher canopies. She followed closely behind, remaining silent.

   We landed in a fully harvested tree not far from home, so I found myself a comfortable place to sit and wondered how to handle the situation. Obviously, Toby had not dropped by for a friendly visit. She landed close behind me and picked a couple of stray leaves from her blades.

   In a rush to lighten the mood and delay the inevitable chastisement, I said, “You’re back early from Washington. Was it nice?”

   Toby wasn’t interested in small talk. “Yes, I am back early. When I got home, I had a meeting with my staff in South Yellowstone. There was much to discuss, but something popped up that I certainly didn’t expect.”

   I winced, uncertain as to what exactly had been said, but knowing that it had something to do with me.  “What was it?”

   Toby paused, but I noticed a slight growl as she reached a hand up and rubbed at her face. “What on Earth have you been doing in my absence?!” She finally urged.

   I dipped my head and shrunk back to my seat, again fiddling with the tip of my tail. “School…” I said, attempting to divert any guilt.

   Toby shook her head. “Why have I come back home to hear rumours of another _seer_ among our people?”

   “I don’t…” I began. No excuse came, and I knew now what had happened. I looked up to Toby with apologetic eyes, and though she was still glaring with anger, she began to calm. It was enough for her to approach and sit directly opposite to me.

   “Your mother tells me that you trespassed into the local tourist centre. Is that true?”

   I cocked my head. “Tourist centre?”

   “You know what I mean, Taku.” Toby huffed. She was right, and my petty attempt to deflect had failed.

   “Yes.” I admitted, glancing down to my feet.

   “And what exactly happened when you were there?” She pressed.

   I hesitated for a while, still avoiding eye contact with her but unable to find the right words that would allow me to escape inevitable chastisement. “We were exploring, and it was cold. We went in to get warm.”

   Toby picked up on another nervous pause. “And?”

   “Humans found us. There was one called Millie, and I talked to her for a while.” I was able to muster a smile and finally brought my eyes to Toby’s. “She was nice.”

   Toby shook her head lightly and sighed. “I’m sure she was mountains of fun. But that is not the point, Taku.” Her tone of voice roughened and rose, anger slowly pushing through but still with a modicum of restraint. “There are Humans now who know of your presence here! They even know your name! Do you know what one member of my staff asked me when I got home?”

   I shrugged, once again shirking beneath her berating.

   “She asked me if you were my child! As if I have somehow hidden one of my own children from the Humans.”

   “I’m sorry.” I whispered, hoping that such a simple apology would bring some relief. She let it hang for a moment, keeping her watch on me as I weakly attempted to recompose myself.

   Toby nodded acceptingly. “I’m afraid it is too late now, however.”

   Her statement confused me, and I looked directly at her, silently pressing for an explanation.

   “They will not stop until I show you to them. They have been as eager to find another _seer_ as I have been.”

   “Is that such a bad thing?” I asked.

   Toby sighed deeply and slumped. I sensed disappointment. “I didn’t want this to happen quite so early. I was going to let you decide for yourself, when you were ready.”

   “Am I not ready now?” I huffed, feeling a prideful sense of confidence rush through me.

   Toby glared, but not in anger anymore, more a kind of disheartened and indecisive manner. “No. You are not.”

   I crossed my arms angrily over my chest, wincing when one blade caught my skin. “And how do you know that?”

   “I know.” She replied bluntly.

   An awkward silence followed on the heels of her dismissal. I released my angered composure and resumed staring at my slowly swaying legs. Toby was watching me, observing and contemplating.

   “When will I be ready?” I asked, my voice a low monotonous drone as I continued to face downwards.

   “I don’t know yet.” Toby answered, now sounding much calmer. “But I will know when.”

   “Why is it so bad,” I began, lifting my head and retaining my full voice. “To be known by the Humans? Why do you want to hide me from them?”

   Toby breathed deeply. “You will realise when-”

   I moaned audibly enough to interrupt her statement. “You always say that. _You’ll find out soon enough. You’ll see why I’m doing this when you’re older._ Why can’t you tell me _now_? You never tell me anything! All this time I have learned from you, all the time we spend talking about language and mathematics and science, all the hours we’ve spent in each other’s company, and I don’t know you at all!”

   Toby seemed struck, and I caught a sorrowful look on her face just before it collapsed back to its soulless and emotionless glare.

   I shrugged, throwing off an impression that I never even cared. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.” I got up, shook off a few leaves, and started to descend the tree.

   Toby pursued me. “Taku, where are you going?”

   “I’m going to see the Humans.” I grumbled up to her. “They seem to know you. Maybe I can get better answers than you give.”

   I could have easily leapt to the next tree over, but at the moment when it crossed my mind, I felt Toby’s hand grab the end of my tail. I turned my head to bark back at her, but it came out as more of a whimper.

   “Taku, please, don’t do that. Come back up here.” She requested.

   “Why should I? You won’t tell me anything. Why fear the Humans if you don’t tell me why I should?”

   Toby sighed, and again I saw the indecisiveness on her face. “Okay, Taku. I will tell you.”

   I narrowed my eyes, suspiciously. “You will?”

   “Yes,” She said. “I will.”

   “Thank you.” I turned when she released my tail and I retook my seating position in the canopy. Toby moved closer to me, now sitting beside me on my branch. She never usually got so close.

   Her mind was searching, investigating for the best place to start, and for a while I just let her undo the knots in her memory so that I could understand. Then, she looked me directly in the eyes, and even though she had relented I could still sense that this was not what she wanted.

   “Taku, I am what the Humans call a governor. I am the governor of our people.”

   The word was unfamiliar, but before I could question her on its meaning, she continued.

   “That means, put simply, that I am the voice of the Hork-Bajir. I am the one who speaks the concerns of our people to the Humans. I am the link between, and that is why I am so often away from home. It is my job to make sure that our rights are not compromised.”

   “I… I don’t think I understand.”

   “I knew that you wouldn’t.” Toby said.

   “So why did you not tell me about it?”

   Toby sighed. “There is a reason that I must be governor, Taku.” She turned and looked up to the blanket of branches and leaves around us. “This is not our home.”

   “No.” I said with a slight chuckle. I pointed southwards. “Our homes are that way.”

   She shook her head. “No, Taku. The park, Yellowstone. Earth. This is not our home.”

   My mind went fuzzy, and I blanked as I tried to figure out what she meant. The book that I had been given by the Human Millie had mentioned something similar, but I had just taken it as a misinterpretation on my part. “So… where is our home?”

   “Far from here.” Toby said. “Somewhere among the stars that you can see at night.”

   I kicked my legs and continued to question. “Well, why are we here then?”

   Toby turned her body more towards me. “We were caught up in a war, Taku. For a long time, there were no Hork-Bajir. No true Hork-Bajir, anyway.”

   “Where were they all, Toby?”

   “They…” She began. I saw her struggle, perhaps to find the words or maybe still reluctant to give me the information. “They were slaves. Lost within their own bodies. They were controlled by creatures called Yeerks.”

   Yeerks was a word that had become familiar since I had started reading my new book. All the while as Toby continued, I attempted to apply the new information to that which I had recently learned. Things began to make a little more sense.

   “We found ourselves here when the war ended.” Toby continued. “Thankfully, the Humans took pity on our people. I still consider _that_ a miracle...”

   “Then what happened?” I pushed, intrigued by her story.

   “They gave us Yellowstone, and we have lived here ever since.”

   I smiled up to her. “They seem nice.”

   Toby huffed, and I wasn’t sure if it was her way of agreeing or an indication that I had been naïve all this time. “They are a diverse species…”

   She paused for a while, knowing full well that I would need some time to arrange the thoughts in my head. I finally spoke up when I thought I had the answer as to why she had kept this from me for so long.

   “Will I have to do the same?” I asked. “Do I have to be a governor, too?”

   Toby laughed, a rare occurrence that took me by surprise on this particular occasion. “Don’t you worry about that. I am the governor for now, and believe me, it is not something that you want to be.”

   “But that’s what you want.” I said, not allowing her to deflect the issue. “That is why you want to tutor me. And that is also why you didn’t want to tell me. You didn’t want to turn me away from the idea. You plan for me to be the next governor, and you thought it best to train me up so that I couldn’t refuse when I was needed.”

   Toby’s face instantly turned, a dreadful look of guilt emerging. “No, Taku. Not exactly like that. I do not want to force you into anything. I want you to choose. I didn’t tell you until now because I didn’t want you to worry. I know how the _seer_ mind works. I know it all too well. I know that if I told you, you would so quickly feel the responsibility that you would insist on doing the job even at such a fragile age. You would have no childhood. That is exactly what happened to me.”

   I backed down slightly, still frustrated at what I thought was the truth, but giving her space to explain.

   “I was the first Hork-Bajir born into freedom. My mother and father were freed from the Yeerks, just the two of them. From the day I could first speak a word I was giving out orders. I was born into a war with such horrendous odds, and into a group of people with no leadership to guide them. Even though sometimes I knew the decision was not always down to me, I felt the irresistible urge to take responsibility.”

   “I’m sorry…” I apologised, now feeling guilty myself having accused her. I still felt that tingle of suspicion, but I understand better now why she would make the decision, even if I could potentially react much differently.

   “Don’t be sorry.” Toby said with a smile. “I should be sorry. I should have told you earlier.”

   I nodded and kicked my feet again, picking at the bark of the branch we were sat on.

   “Anyway, Taku Kelmut,” Toby spoke, once again verging on forceful. “I hear from your school teacher that you have been misbehaving.”

   A smile grew irreversibly on my snout. “I’ve been good!”

   “Not from what I hear. You are seen as a bit of a troublemaker.”

   She was trying to be serious, but even she was struggling to hold back a smile. We felt closer then, having opened up to each other more, and it was a relief to get the secret out of the way and move on to a lighter topic.

   “It’s not my fault…” I excused. “Meeg Hapul isn’t a very good teacher. Not as good as you.”

   “Why do you say that?”

   “Meeg Hapul is too fat to be a good teacher.”

   Toby shook her head. “You shouldn’t be so judgemental. Most Hork-Bajir put on a layer of fat during colder seasons. It’s good for insulation.”

   “I knew that…” I grumbled.

   “Then again, she is a particularly extreme case.” She chuckled lightly. “Just don’t make fun of her, okay? You must learn to cooperate well with your neighbours.”

   I rolled my eyes as Toby removed herself from the branch and prepared to leave. I bounced up after her, but there was still something on my mind that I had neglected to ask since she had begun her story.

   “Toby?” I called up to her.

   “Yes, Taku?”

   “What is _war_?”

   Toby paused, but in her hesitance I saw a sense of relief, of accomplishment washing over her.

   “It’s… I… I will tell you tonight over the campfire. I will remain at your tree until tomorrow, and I would like to tell you and your neighbours the story of the war. Most will have heard it so many times, but maybe they would like to hear it from my point of view.”

   “You will tell me what war means, then?”

   She nodded. “You will understand tonight. It is not a story often told to _kawatnoj_ , so I think your parents will be hesitant to let you attend, but I will make sure that you do.”

   “Why isn’t it told to _kawatnoj_?” I asked.

   “It tends to give them nightmares.”

   I laughed and stood up straight. “I don’t get nightmares.”

   Toby shook her head, and began making her way back to my family tree. “Oh, you will.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

   I honestly thought that Toby had been exaggerating when she said that I would have nightmares that night. I was wrong, and I struggled to fall into even the lightest sleep. I knew so little the day before, and my existence in this park had been like some big game, full of food, sleep and smiling faces, but our residence in Yellowstone had only begun recent, and followed on from a massacre that nearly wiped out our species completely. For a while, it pretty much did.

   Toby’s story that night, in front of the largest campfire crowd I had ever seen, was so in-depth and graphic, so real that its effect on our people became evident. There were tears from many of the locals, some of whom chipped in with tragic tales of their own. The shock of seeing oft-cheerful faces suddenly turn to mournful expressions was one of the more frightening aspects of that night.

   And yet, somehow, they wanted to reminisce. They listened intently to the story of the Yeerk war, from the invasion of the home planet, all the way to the victorious end, and even through teary eyes, they dispersed with smiles and relieved silence. I, however, left the camp with far too many questions, and Toby knew that all too well. She joined me and my family back in the tree after asking my parent’s permission to stay for the night. They were only too pleased.

   Mother and Father were too young to have witnessed the war. According to Toby, it ended about nine years ago, and they were only about six years of age each. Their parents, however, who also made an appearance that night, were once Yeerk hosts, and they told me themselves of their own lives under such horrible oppression. I had always wondered why Father-Father had only one arm, though I had never thought to ask.

   There were various characters in Toby’s story, but few more important than a group known as the _Animorphs_ : Strange Humans with the curious ability to turn into anything with a DNA pattern of its own. According to Toby, they were our greatest allies (though the way she spoke, it seemed as if they may have been our _only_ allies). It was one of the Animorphs who cut off Father-Father’s arm, according to him.

   Why would our supposed allies hurt him like that?

   Such questions refused to let me sleep that night.

   There was so much more to the story, and each little detail played its part in the orchestra of my imagination. The idea of living under the control of another creature, without even the slightest ability to move one’s own body, was absolutely terrifying, and yet so many of the park’s residents had lived through it.

   Mother, with all her motherly knowledge, managed to see through my indifferent and unaffected masquerade that night and noticed that I was troubled. Toby knew it was there, but I assumed that that was because she partly understood how my mind worked. I got the feeling that she thought it best if my own parents provided me with the comfort I required.

   I was awake when the rest of the family began to stir, when the Sun finally rose above the line of trees in the distance. Mother and Father were the first to awaken, and I guess that they were eager to please our guest, because they almost immediately instigated a petty squabble about what to give Toby for _meltuk_ – what the Humans would usually call breakfast. Their argument brought both Toby and Lenk out of their slumber, and soon the home tree was once again alive with activity.

   I never would have thought that spending a night with Toby would be so unnerving. I tried to appear asleep, to receive at least some uninterrupted sleep before Father forced me awake to search out some food, but Toby could even tell when I was wide awake and trying to hide it.

   “Would you like _meltuk_ , Taku?” She asked me from across the tree platform.

   I heard Father whisper, “Mago think Taku sleep longer.”

   I sighed and twisted my neck to stare upwards. “Yes. I would like _meltuk_ , please.”

   A silence followed, with Father perplexed at how Toby knew I was awake, but relenting as he placed a couple pieces of bark before me. He rubbed my arm and went back to his own food. I slowly devoured my own, chewing to make it soft and gulping it down in large chunks. I nearly choked when Lenk called my name loudly.

   “Taku play today.” He suggested, almost demandingly. It came as a surprise, because Lenk rarely offered to do many activities with me. He would usually ignore me and trudge off to the hot springs with friends.

   “Play?” I replied in disbelief, sitting up and looking over at him.

   “Yes. Play. Play with Lenk.”

   I smiled and jumped up to my feet. It had been so long since I had played a game with Lenk that I had almost forgotten what it was like. “Okay.” I said. “What did you want to do?”

   “Make snow Hork-Bajir.” Lenk offered. “Lenk make best snow Hork-Bajir.”

   I smirked and folded my arms. “No, Lenk, _I_ make the best ones. I’ll show you how.”

   It was the type of brotherly interaction that I had missed recently, and seen among the other siblings that lived in the vicinity. My mood lifted instantly, and for a moment I forgot about the war and responsibility.

   However, the escape didn’t last long. I felt a large claw drop onto my shoulder, and Toby’s voice whisper in my ear. “Taku, I was hoping to take you somewhere else today.”

   Lenk must have overheard, and a great stab of guilt burrowed into my chest as I saw his expression dull, and he turned his head to look off into the distance, frustrated and self-contained as it so often was.

   “But Toby,” I began to protest. “I want to-”

   “You should come with me,” were her blunt and forceful words.

   My hearts wanted desperately to ignore her, to indulge in some mindless games with my brother, who I had rarely gotten to know in the months since I was born, but my mind bubbled up again, strict and thoughtful, and I felt myself compelled to look up to her and nod, accept that what she had planned would be of such greater importance.

   Shortly after, with Toby looking for permission from my parents to once again take me to some far-away destination, Lenk slinked off upon seeing a friend of his somewhere in the distance. He left without a word, but for a curt nod to my parents and a baffling glare towards me. I sat by the home tree trunk for a while, disheartened and eager to get the day over with. Wasting the day by flipping through some tedious file of soggy paper in Toby’s tree, with her family constantly tempting me to run off and play catch and her mother cooing over me like I was her own _kawatnoj_ , was no longer as inviting as it had been previously. Nevertheless, Toby received the permission that she was after, and once I had said my grumbly goodbyes to my equally displeased parents, we were away again, bouncing through acres of trees.

   “I had a long time to think last night, Taku.” Toby panted after a long while of travelling without communicating. “I was just going to go back home, but I changed my mind.”

   All I could muster in return was a petulant huff, and upon hearing it, Toby slowed to a stop and turned to face me, stood within the diverging trunk of a pine. Her face was solid, unmoving as it so often was.

   “You don’t wish to come.” She said, unsurprisingly correct.

   I landed in the tree beside her and hooked myself onto the main trunk, turning my neck to stare over at her. “Not really.”

   “I think you will really benefit from what I have to show you,” She assured me. “And I also think you may enjoy it.”

   “You have another confirmation letter for your reservation at some hotel? I can’t wait to see it…” I jumped towards her tree and landed on the trunk below her, turning left and jumping to the next.

   “Taku!” Toby called to stop me, still stood rested in her tree. “You’re going the wrong way.”

   I dangled from a thick branch with one hand, slowly rocking back and forth with what momentum I had remaining. “But you live this way.” I countered.

   “We’re not going to my tree.” She informed me.

   “So where are we going?”

   Toby smiled and turned in the opposite direction. “We are going to see a friend of mine. Follow me.” She bounced from her position and flung forward to the next tree. I sighed, tensed my muscles, and followed, heading in a direction I hadn’t yet explored.

   I thought that the journey to Toby’s tree was lengthy, and it was something I often moaned about to her. Having to travel there almost daily left me with plenty of sore spots and scratches, and I thought a travel couldn’t be much worse. On the way to our new destination, thwacking through painful thorn bushes and denser, snow-covered trees, I realised that we were moving away from the designated Hork-Bajir habitat and into somewhere a little less suited to us. Travel was much more difficult, the trees and plants harsh on the skin and the snow left to build itself into hills wherever the lines of trees broke.

   Toby ignored my various moans and groans, and for the majority of the distance she remained quiet and pondering, only stopping every mile or so to check whether I was able to keep up. Eventually, and to my relief, we escaped the maze of trees and snow and landed hard on our feet in an opening, with only a soft layer of snow freezing our ankles. Toby shook off the various types of litter that had stuck to her body and allowed me to catch up. My eyes, meanwhile, were transfixed on something unusual in the foreground.

   It wasn’t too unlike the Human tourist centre that I and my friends had explored the other day, but this time there was more than one building, two from what I could initially see, and neither was as big as the centre. They were a considerable distance apart, one of them a short, stumpy and rather decrepit looking thing, but the other, sat higher up on the ground and taller in size, was more colourful and well kept, the roof converging, culminating to a point. Most of the structure was a bright white, almost camouflaged against the snow on the ground, and interspersed with small black windows.

   “What is this place?” I asked Toby.

   “This is where my friend lives.” She responded.

   “Your friend is a Human?”

   Toby chuckled. “Is there something so bad about being friends with a Human?” She began to walk towards the small collection of buildings, taking my hand in the process.

   “No…” I mumbled. “I was just curious about why you would take me to one.”

   “You’ll find out.” Toby said as we jumped over a small wooden fence. We landed on a road, two car tracks visible in the thinning snow. It led up to the buildings, first to the shorter, messier building and then stretched upwards to the other. At the closer building’s front was a large pair of wooden doors, one held ajar by an up-building of snow. As the fence to our left opened up before the dilapidated structure, Toby waddled over and slowly opened up one of the two doors with a loud creak. I came along beside her, and when the door was shifted enough to allow us entry, a deep stench of dried grass and dust filled my nostrils.

   The inside of the building was dark and for the most part followed a rusty colour theme: old pieces of metal, empty barred cages and dead wood. The occasional bale of straw could be seen poking out here and there. Toby peeked inside, looking past an old piece of anonymous machinery and ridding herself of some cobwebs that had somehow settled on her snout.

   “She isn’t in here,” She noted. “I suppose she’ll be in the house.”

   Leaving behind the empty structure, we continued along the wide snowy pathway, which curved around the edge of a shallow hill, coming to an abrupt stop where a large part of the second building protruded outwards into a boxy enclosure, facing us with a large, metallic single door. Before that sat a car, and the lighter layer of snow topping the vehicle suggested that it hadn’t been there for long. Toby led us around the parked car and through a small wooden gate which was moving freely in the light winter breeze. I remained a few feet behind her the whole way, taking my time to properly observe the strange surroundings. I spent so long looking at a curious rotating structure on the roof that when Toby finally came to a stop at the door to the main building, I almost tripped over her tail. She anticipated the fall and caught me.

   “You must behave while we’re here, Taku.” Toby instructed, lifting a closed fist to the door and promptly knocking. “Like my home tree, there will be a lot of important paperwork around which must not be eaten, chewed, nibbled, screwed up, ripped or thrown. Also, unless you are given prior permission, do not eat anything, even things that look like they _should_ be eaten.”

   I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “But I’m hungry. It’s taken so long to get here.”

   When Toby was readying to respond to my complaint, she was interrupted as the door to the Human home clicked and swung open. I felt the waft of warm air sweep over my cold body, recalling me back to the gorgeous innards of the tourist centre. Suddenly, dismissing all of my previous suspiciousness and nervousness, I just wanted to get inside and get cosy. However, in order to do that, proper etiquette required that I introduce myself to the owner of the home first.

   The Human that came face-to-face with Toby was quite short, with dark skin and relatively short black hair. Using my brief experience with Humans, and recalling what I had seen in multitudes of Human books, I predicted that this particular Human was female, though I tended to struggle with Human genders at the best of times. She wore a pair of blue jeans, which hung loosely over her legs and bore one or two small tears, topped with a long-sleeved shirt of a slightly lighter shade of blue. In the thin clothing, the Human instantly crossed her arms tightly over her chest and hunched upon feeling the cold of the outdoors.

   “Hey, Toby.” The Human said.

   “Hello, Cassie.” Toby replied.

   The Human named Cassie smiled, but under the chatter of her teeth she said, “Come on in, you must be freezing.”

   My hand was again clutched by Toby’s, providing me with a suitable anchor as we entered Cassie’s home. She closed the door behind us, blocking off the cold air and allowing me to bask in the new temperature. The house was wonderfully warm, and a soft fragrance filled the air, its flavour unknown. Looking around, I noticed that the insides were much different to what I had seen in the centre, or the other building that we had just passed. It was so much more comfortable and aesthetically pleasing. The walls were calmly decorated with colourful Human drawings and artefacts, lit with pleasant white lights, but countered by the orange glow of a fire, burning on the far side of the room within a deep black hole in the wall. Two large sofas sat either side of a coffee table in the room’s centre, a few sheets of paper and a coaster scattered here and there.

   What was more interesting to me was the use of wood. The floor of the home seemed to be made of extremely finely cut planks glued together with such precision that the entire ground was like one flat sheet. The coffee table and various other furnishings were made of similar woody structure, and already I felt saliva gather under my tongue. It wasn’t bark, but the sight of wood patterns brought it to mind.

   “It’s been quite a while, Toby,” Cassie chatted in the background as I observed her home. “Everyone in the office has been wondering where you’ve been. We’ve missed you.”

   “I’m sorry,” Toby replied. “There have been a lot of things requiring my attention. I hope my absence hasn’t put too much pressure on anyone else.”

   Cassie grinned. “No. It’s fine. Things have been pretty quiet, to be honest. Would you like a drink?”

   “Yes, please,” Toby said. “I’ll have some warm water.”

   Then, the Human turned to me. She had acknowledged me before that moment, but only now did she find the time to properly begin an introduction. “And what about your little friend?” She asked, and smiled kindly down at me. I couldn’t understand why she would call me little, since I was only barely shorter than her.

   “This is Taku Kelmut.” Toby informed her. “You may have heard of him.”

   Cassie stepped closer to me, but even though she was almost a complete stranger, and of a different species altogether, her presence felt unimposing and friendly. “I have.” She said, and then to me, she continued, “Nice to meet you, Taku.”

   I returned the smile to her, my confidence steadily returning. “Nice to meet you, too, Cassie.”

  “You want some water?” She asked me.

   “Yes, please. Do you have any bark, too?”

   Cassie grinned widely again, baring her flat human teeth. “Sure. I always keep some around just in case.” She retreated to a small desk on the other side of the room, topped with a blank computer – a laptop, I presumed – and a few folders and piles of paper. She reached into a small compartment on the underside and pulled out a small piece. It looked a little old and dry, but anything would do at the time. She handed it to me, and I thanked her before munching on the much-needed food.

   “Cassie,” Toby addressed as she was about to leave the room. “May we talk in the kitchen?”

   Cassie looked down to the ground and nodded mournfully. “Sure.”

   Toby looked to me. “Could you stay in here for a while, Taku? There are some things that Cassie and I need to discuss alone.”

   I huffed, disappointed that I was already being excluded from a conversation. Cassie noticed my slump, and in what I assumed to be a bout of sympathy, she reached back into her desk compartment and pulled out a small, colourful object. “Here,” she said, handing it to me. “You can play with this. We won’t be long.”

   “What are you going to be talking about?” I asked intrusively, and simultaneously inspecting the small, multi-coloured cube. “And what is this thing?”

   Toby answered my first question. “We need to talk about our work, Taku. There is a lot that I and Cassie need to catch up on.”

   “And that is a Rubix cube.” Cassie said, answering my second question. “You have to turn the sides until the colours on each all match.”

   “Okay…” I whispered, still disappointed that I couldn’t join their conversation, but equally pleased that I had a new toy to play with. I instantly got to work, figuring out how the peculiar object functioned.

   Toby and Cassie left for another room in the Human home, leaving me to solve the complex cube. I sat down heavily on a large cushy sofa, a Human piece of furniture I had until then only seen in books. It was amazing how comfortable it actually was, and I found it most pleasant in the corner, leant up against the armrest, my tail swaying lazily over the sofa’s edge. I held the toy out in front of me, occasionally swivelling a side but mostly just inspecting it, looking for patterns and solutions. I barely noticed when Cassie re-entered the room to drop off my drink of water. I said thank you just as she was about to go out of hearing range.

   The cube contraption was much more difficult than I originally thought. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how far I thought ahead, I couldn’t get all the colours to match on each side. The task was beginning to get frustrating.

   Then I had some luck. Or, at least, something occurred that I could take advantage of. One of the coloured marks, a blue square, seemed to have come loose, its corner folded forward. Seeing that the colours were detachable, I pinched the square between two claws and removed it. The white underside was sticky, like it had been smothered in a layer of pine sap. It was sticky enough to reattach.

   It only took a few minutes for me to remove all of the colours, keeping the undersides sticky by temporarily placing them on my tail. With the cube now void of its colours, I could stick them back on, with each side consisting of a sole colour.

   Feeling incredibly proud of myself, I placed the completed puzzle cube onto the coffee table and jumped from the sofa to seek out something else to do. The desk stole my attention, beholding the computer device that I had read about in a book called _PCs for Dummies_. Beside that were a couple of folders and a few pieces of paper arranged into neat piles. I took the paper in my hands and, though a nagging feeling in the back of my mind told me that it was none of my business, my interest in its content was too tempting to ignore it. I skimmed over it.

   The papers weren’t too dissimilar to those that Toby often brought back to her home tree. The style of writing was blunt and much too formal to be of much entertainment. However, its content concerned our people. It was some sort of political bill proposing a change in park limitations, something about pathways being created to allow easier movement for tourists visiting various parts of the park. It was signed with a few illegible signatures and addressed from the park officials and the governmental figures of Wyoming, the state that we resided in.

   Cassie must have worked in close tandem with Toby, either travelling with her or working for the same cause. Maybe they had known each other for quite some time. It certainly explained why they would have to talk in private.

   “Taku?”

   The voice startled me, and, in danger of being caught red-handed, I dropped the file of paper back onto the desk, as if I had never touched it. Cassie had re-entered the room, Toby looming tall behind her. I put on my most innocent, smiley expression.

   Cassie, however, seemed to have caught me in the act, and gave me a knowing glance. She walked over and subtly moved the pile of papers further into the centre of the desk. Toby’s expression was a little less forgiving, but she let it slide. For now, at least.

   (Someday, I would eventually learn to keep my eyes and hands to myself. It would take quite a while, however. I was a very nosy _kawatnoj_.)

   “So, Taku, I-” Cassie started to speak. She paused, though, when she noticed the Rubix cube. She picked it up and inspected it. The prideful face that I initially showed her quickly faded when two of the sticky coloured pieces fell off and tumbled to the ground. I heard Toby utter an amused laugh.

   “I suppose you completed it. Sort of...” Cassie said.

   “I think we should discuss what to do with Taku’s education.” Toby suggested, apparently bringing us back on track.

   Cassie nodded and sat down on the sofa. Toby joined her, sitting down on the opposite sofa and patting the area beside her, inviting me over. I accepted, and jumped up beside her, finding a comfortable seating position and lying back, partly against her.

   “It’s amazing,” Cassie surmised. “Another _seer_ in the park. I thought Hork-Bajir seers were supposed to be rarer than that.”

   Toby answered her. “As did I, though we can’t just assume that Taku will spontaneously become the _seer_ that we need.” She turned her head to me. “You told me yesterday that you thought you were ready. That’s why I’ve brought you here. That’s why I called Cassie and asked her to come here, too.”

   Cassie was now also directed to me. “You think you’re ready? Ready for what, exactly?”

   “Toby has told me about the things she has to do. The things she has done. I… I thought I was ready yesterday, when we talked,” I looked up to Toby sheepishly, and again found an emotionless, unreadable glare that provided me with no answers. “But you told us about the war last night. And… I don’t know.”

   Cassie bit her lip and gazed curiously at Toby, whose expression stayed unchanged. The Human clutched at a mug in her hands, the steam of hot liquid rising from it and up to her chin, and she hunched forward. “He only learned about the war last night?”

   “Yes. Perhaps we left it a bit late, but I don’t think it makes much of a difference.” Toby replied defensively. “I want you to know, Taku, that the position I take among my people is not a game. If you think that you are ready, then I suggest we start early, but progress slowly. When I took charge of my people, I was no older than you are now, but since I am still able to guide my people in these times, you have a chance to adapt at your own pace. Things will be better that way.”

   I was a little lost for words. No longer did I consider myself ready for any _seer_ tasks, especially after Toby’s brutal stories the night before. The responsibilities that she took on were ones that none of our people had to face, and the difference in her personality compared to other Hork-Bajir was staggering. She was cold, confusing and withheld, whereas everyone else I knew carried a certain level of optimism and openness. Did I really want to be like her?

   “Isn’t Taku a little young?” Cassie interjected.

   “Again, that is something that I have considered, and possibly the question that crosses my mind most often,” Toby replied. “But now you Humans know of his presence in the park and it won’t be long before the presses call for him.”

   “We could just keep him away from the media.” Cassie suggested before taking a sip of her hot drink.

   Toby nodded, but seemed to be caught between two states of mind. “Maybe. That is something that I think we’ll need to discuss with the team back in Jackson. Either way, I still think Taku needs to take on proper training. He needs a guide.”

   “Aren’t you my guide?” I asked her, a little dejected.

   “I am,” She said, looking down at me with eyes that now seemed kinder and more understanding. Then, she looked back to Cassie. “But I have neglected other duties for too long now. I have had so much to do these last few months, and I put all of it aside so that I could teach you to read and write. Now, I am beginning to fall behind on my other work. I’m not sleeping much, and a lot of those I work with – and against – accuse me of losing the ability to guide my people.”

   “Toby,” Cassie spoke up again. “We didn’t know about Taku until very recently. We can understand that you have been working with him. We could pass on whatever proposals come through to the other staff. We could ration it out.”

   “No. I hate to appear untrusting, but I will not allow proposals concerning my people to be passed without Hork-Bajir input and opinion. I have to do it. Besides, it’s also crossed my mind that Taku has learned all that he needs to from me. There is little more that I could teach him that wouldn’t just be reinforcing what he already knows.”

   I was beginning to feel a little left out of the conversation. They were talking about me, and not _to_ me, so in frustration, I crossed my arms, turned, and leant back against Toby to look blankly up to the ceiling. Cassie sighed ever so lightly, but despite my subtle protest, their conversation proceeded.

   Toby continued, “He can now read and write at an advanced level, and his observation and problem-solving skills are superb.”

   “You think that he should get some more life experience?”

   “Exactly.”

   I huffed and turned a little more to face the sofa, digging the blunt edges of my head blades against Toby’s ribs. She didn’t seem to care.  

   “Taku?” I heard Cassie’s voice call. “How long have you been learning from Toby now?”

   I turned my head, surprised at the invite back into the conversation. To appear polite, I swivelled to face her. “I think it’s over three months. Since November, anyway.”

   She nodded. “I think I know what Toby’s getting at, and right now I agree with her. Would you want to see how Humans live?”

   The suggestion pleased me, and my curiosity piqued. I sat up straight, no longer leaning against Toby. “I’ve read a lot of books on it. I like the way Humans live. You have so many… things.”

   Cassie grinned widely and masked it with another sip of her drink. “It won’t be books, Taku. We could get you a guide. A Human guide who’ll show you how we _really_ live.”

   Toby smiled for the first time since we arrived. “It would be good experience for you, especially if you are to work with and around Humans when you’re mature enough.”

   “I _am_ mature…” I huffed, before sticking my tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

   They had arranged for me to have a Human guide. At first, the idea perplexed me, and though my confidence around Humans had increased, I still held some nerves about spending so much time with one, but the more I thought about the idea of learning more about their species, the more excited I became. The two-day wait before I was able to meet my new tutor was verging on painful, and even the most exciting games I played with my friends seemed incomparably dull. Pluk and Ruga were less than pleased, and perhaps I should have taken more consideration for them and all the others who were close to me, because it meant that I would have to spend even less time around them.

   Mother and Father, as always, were happy to grant whatever permission I required, but I noticed reluctance and disappointment whenever I asked it of them. They made sure never to talk about it with me around, but I knew for certain that they grieved the lack of time they had with me. I felt guilty then, and even more so now, but it was a necessary loss.

   I initially thought that the Human called Cassie would make an appropriate guide. From what I had seen, she was very caring individual, calm and generally pleasant to be around. She could almost pass for a Hork-Bajir. However, she explained to me that she had too much work on at the time. She, like Toby, had to travel on a regular basis, and she didn’t have nearly enough time to spend teaching me how to change television channels. The decline saddened me, but I understood the reasoning and didn’t make a fuss about it.

   The day after my first meeting with Cassie, Toby arrived back at our home tree, eager to tell me that Cassie had found a suitable tutor. Her name was Clarissa, but I was given very little information other than that to chew on. I couldn’t help but picture someone just like Cassie: Kind, gentle and generous. I hated the idea of being disappointed, but I had not yet met a Human that I didn’t get along with.

   Two days later, Toby took me back to Cassie’s home, where I was told Clarissa would pick me up. Toby, however, had to go to some meeting, so as soon as I was dropped off she left again, leaving me alone with Cassie. I didn’t mind that at all, though I could sense that she had more important things to do. She seemed preoccupied.

   There was something else I noticed in that short period of time when we were alone together. It was nothing clear or obvious, but, like Toby, it didn’t take me long to see it. She was often distant, seemingly troubled. It was a sort of yearning, or mourning that made me realise that she and Toby weren’t much different. I couldn’t quite understand what connected them, and I felt too polite to ask.

  “Cassie?” I asked her, sat on the edge of her sofa and lightly kicking my legs as she organised some files on her computer desk. “When do you think Clarissa will be here?”

   On my first visit to Cassie’s home, she had greeted me with a smile, and it would return often in conversation. It is what set my impression of her. On that day, however, she was stressed, and that toothy smile was much rarer. She responded, eyes glued to the desk and her voice an undramatic drone. “She said five. Not long now.”

   “Does she have a home like yours?” I asked, doing my best to spring up a conversation.

   “No. Not really.” She replied, immediately falling silent again and grabbing a half-empty mug of coffee.

   I lowered my head and twiddled my thumbs, feeling unusually awkward. I slumped from the sofa and took my water from the coffee table, taking a long gulp, if only to pass the extra time. I wanted to cheer Cassie up, but appeasing a Human is much different than appeasing a Hork-Bajir, and I had no idea whether my methods would work, or if they would just make things worse. Instead, then, I went to sit in front of the warm fire that had been lit. I needed the warmth, and it provided more entertainment than sitting on the sofa, picking splinters from my scales.

   The fire was large, though nowhere near as large as the campfires our people lit on a near-nightly basis. Nevertheless, it flickered and spun in the air just as brightly, and with just as great a temperature. I held my hands out towards it, and felt the heat cruise into my body. My tail quivered with the satisfaction that I received.

   “Taku?” I heard Cassie say. I swivelled my neck to see her, as she crept up behind me and lowered herself to sit cross-legged by my side. “I’m sorry if I seem distant.”

   I shook my head. “I understand that you have work. Toby is the same when she has a lot of work to do.”

   Cassie shifted a little closer to me. “I’ve known Toby for a long time now. She’s always been a little… cold.”

   “She is.” I agreed, resting backwards on my straightened arms. “Most of the time.”

   Cassie nodded. “You know why that is, right?”

   “I think so.”

   Cassie sighed and hesitated for a moment. I caught a glimpse of her in the corner in my eye, and she looked indecisive, so much like the way Toby was when she revealed to me what she had kept secret for so long.

   “She has a lot of responsibilities.” Cassie surmised, and it sounded like a quick and effortless substitute for what she really wanted to say. Out of politeness, I didn’t pursue what she was avoiding.

   “I know,” I replied. “I’ve seen all the paperwork.”

   “It’s more than just paperwork, Taku.” Cassie whispered mournfully. Then, with a little more force, she asked, “Taku, do you really want this?”

   I looked straight at up at her, confused. “Want what, Cassie?”

   “You want to be like Toby?”

   Her question was vague, but at the same time I knew exactly what she meant. It was more of a warning than a question, and the sadness I caught on her face confirmed it.

   “Do I have a choice?”

   Cassie looked alarmed. “Yes!”

   “Oh.”

   “You don’t have to do what she does, Taku.” She urged. “I don’t know how she’s been teaching you, or what she’s said, but I think she hasn’t presented you the other option.”

   “I don’t like the other option.” I stated.

   She sighed, and gently put her hand on mine. “There’s nothing wrong with living a normal life.”

   I nodded to her, but I was still assured with my answer. “I know, but from what Toby tells me, there are only two of us. Two _seers_. I want to be like a _seer_ , and I don’t think a _seer_ is meant to live a normal life. Why else would everyone call me _different_?”

   Her face froze, but she narrowed her eyes and seemed to search my expression. “You can always change your mind. No one is going to force you to do anything.”

   “Toby seems to be okay with all the work.” I suggested. “Surely, I could do just as well as her.”

   I truly felt that my reasoning was valid, and that I could hold to Toby’s standard. She had a lot of work, yes, but she also had a family. She wasn’t a wreck, a loner who spent her time away from her people in solitude, making decisions for everyone around her without knowing them. She may have been a little restrained, but she still had a little of the Hork-Bajir nature within her, somewhere under the withheld intellectual. I truly thought that I could be like that. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to, but it felt like a responsibility I couldn’t refuse. However, the look Cassie gave me was one of strong disagreement.

   “You are not like Toby, Taku,” She told me with urgency. “You are a few months old, and so far you have lived almost just like any normal Hork-Bajir. Toby has only ever known responsibility from the moment she learned to walk. You will _not_ be like her, no matter how strictly you follow her guidelines.”

   I lowered my neck, an unmistakeable sense of defeat slamming me back to reality. Even Toby had told me this, and I still felt that I could prove her wrong. Now, Cassie, a Human, was saying the same thing, and it suddenly mattered a whole lot more.

   “I’ll always be here for you.” Cassie comforted. I looked up to see her smiling, and her hand gripped tighter around my own.

   “Thank you, Cassie.”

   There came a loud series of knocks that interrupted our talk, and both I and Cassie gazed in the direction of the front door. Cassie sprung up from her seated position and straightened her clothing.

   “That’ll be Clarissa.” She told me, and she held out a hand. “Want to come say hello?”

   I bounced up and carefully took her hand, signalling my answer, and Cassie led us to the large front door. I stood to the side when she swung the door open, with such vigour that I assumed the strong winds from outside provided most of the movement, and Cassie even uttered a surprised syllable at the dramatic motion. It was snowing outside, and already it began to pile up on the doorstep.

   On the other side of the door frame was a figure, considerably taller than Cassie, but her form was covered heavily by thick clothing, a hood pulled over her face and her arms wrapped tightly across her chest. Snow was already gathering on her, wherever it could.

    “Hi, Cassie!” She called in a monotonous high-pitched tone. “It’s cold out here!”

   “Come in, Clarissa.” Cassie invited with a brisk chuckle.

   Clarissa trudged onto the doorstep and allowed Cassie to close the front door before anymore warm air could escape. I was already shivering under the influence of the cold that had forced its way in.

   The new Human removed the hood that rested on her head to reveal long, flowing brown hair and a lighter complexion. She rubbed her hands together once she had taken off a pair of gloves and began to remove her massive coat.

   “Did you find the place alright?” Cassie asked casually while offering to take Clarissa’s coat.

   “It took me a while. Had to use the Sat Nav for the last bit. Jed can’t give directions at all.” She replied.

   When she was finished acclimatising to the new environment, Cassie offered her a drink, and though I was eager to introduce myself, Clarissa followed her into another room called a kitchen. The two of them chatted about things I assumed mostly to be work-related, and I sighed irritably to myself and resigned to the front room again. The mere fact that Clarissa was yet to acknowledge my presence was a depressing one.

   Even when she did finally interact with me, it happened when Cassie suggested that we get to know each other. I resented it, but pushed that aside and gave her a big smile when we came face to face. I saw her eyes properly for the first time. They were a deep bronze colour, eyelashes thick, black and almost unnatural. Her face was explicitly clean, and two golden hoops draped from her earlobes.

   “Hey, Taku,” She greeted in the typically smooth and trebly Human female voice “My name’s Clarissa.” She flicked her wrist, itself decorated in large golden hoops, to place her fingers to her upper chest as she leaned down towards me. For some odd reason, the thing that gripped my mind the most was the scent of her breath. It was strangely refreshing.

   “Hello, Clarissa.” I returned, still maintaining my eager appearance.

   “Aren’t you just the most adorable bladed space lizard?!”

   I was stunned. Not only was the declaration itself confusing and unreal, but the way she said it just seemed so… unbelievable. I was flattered by the sentiment, but at the same time insulted by the condescending attitude and the fact that she talked to me almost as if performing for an audience.

   I didn’t like this Human very much.

   My reply was to simply stare up at her, baffled. She giggled nervously, and finally bent down so that she was at my level. “There’s no need to be shy, Taku,” She said with a gentler voice. “Cassie’s told me a lot about you. A _seer_ , right?”

   I nodded, still silent.

   She grinned, baring two rows of perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. “I helped Toby adapt to the Human world too, you know. She was _so_ grumpy.”

   _I’m not surprised_ , I thought to myself. Instead of that, I asked, “What do you do?”

   “Oh, lots of things,” She replied with a big grin. “Anything Human, I can teach you it.”

   Cassie came over and sat down on the nearest sofa. “Clarissa has worked at the park for six years. Two of those years, she was Toby’s expert on ‘all things Human’.”

   Clarissa nodded. “Whenever she needed to call a cab, I was there to show her how the phone worked. Whenever she was eating at a fancy restaurant, I was there to tell her not to let her tail rest on in the passageways where all the waiters walked. Whenever she needed to pee, I told her not to do it in public places.”

   “Will you do the same with me?” I asked her.

   “Of course, silly!” She laughed. “That’s why Cassie asked me to come today.”

   I saw Cassie nod behind her. “I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”

   For the next hour or so, the three of us sat in Cassie’s living room, chatting casually over the toasty fire. I guess I was a little stunned by the eccentric Clarissa, and by the realisation that she would be Toby’s replacement as my guide. I imagined spending a lot of time with her, and that was both daunting and something to look forward to. I was more fervent than ever to begin whole new types of experiences and learning, but I was still uncertain about the Human Clarissa. She spoke at a great pace, and fit so many words and subtle meanings into her speech, the likes of which I had never heard before. Even the Humans I had spoken to previously weren’t so frantic. Cassie was very deliberate with what she said, as were the workers at the tourism centre. Toby spoke very much like Cassie, but often with a more blunt edge. Our people, I hate to admit, were always slow, even at the best of times.

   That must have been why I remained so quiet during that time. Clarissa even made a few subtle comments as to my lack of involvement in their conversations. I simply couldn’t keep up, and it dawned on me that perhaps it was the norm with Humans.  Therefore, I spent my time and energy trying as hard as I could to follow what she was saying.

   Once again, it seemed that Clarissa was more interested in talking to Cassie. The conversation, however, was still quite one-sided, and the topics ranged mostly around shopping, ex-boyfriends and, rarely, their jobs. I understood none of it.

   I sat by Cassie. I was given a choice earlier on, when they were both sat on opposite sofas and I stood between them. I chose my side, feeling much more comfortable around Cassie. She made room for me to loll on the sofa, and I indulged in the relaxation I was afforded.

  The conversations sometimes diverted and involved myself, however.

   “So, Taco,” Clarissa started.

   “Taku…” I corrected her.

   “Sorry, Taku. How far do you live from here?”

   I lifted my head, having previously been gazing up at the ceiling. “I live, um… That way.” I pointed in the direction of Cassie’s kitchen, recalling the direction we arrived at Cassie’s home from.

   Clarissa laughed. Even I knew that my answer was more of a guess than anything.

   I decided to provide a little more information. “I live near the big Human building. Toby says it’s something called a tourism centre.”

   “Sounds like you live just off from Shoshone Lake.” Cassie suggested.

   “We live near a lake, yes,” I said. “Beside a small river that flows from it.”

   “Almost the northernmost part of the Hork-Bajir habitat.” Cassie notified, looking to Clarissa. “That’s a long way from Riverton.”

   “That’s where I live.” Clarissa told me. “Would you like to see Riverton?”

   I looked up to her, and then to Cassie to receive her opinion. She hinted her approval with a nod of her head and a smile.

   “Yes, please.” I said to Clarissa.

   Clarissa grinned in the exaggerated way that Humans do, her glowing white teeth almost reflective. “I think it’s too far to take you back here tonight, though. It’s over sixty miles away.”

   Cassie didn’t seem fazed. “Don’t you have a few trees in your backyard? I’m sure Taku could sleep in one of them. I’ll get Toby to tell his parents where he’s staying.”

   “Have you ever been in a car?” Clarissa asked, addressing the question to me.

   I shook my head. I had seen the innards of a car, and seen how they moved, but I had never sat in one before. In fact, the idea at travelling in them made me feel a little queasy.

   “You’ll have to get used to it.” Clarissa noted, leaning back into her seat with a mug of her hot drink in hand. “If you’re going to be doing anything like Toby, you’ll be travelling a lot in cars. And airplanes, too. You won’t believe how much she complained about the seats on airplanes. You remember that flight to Berlin, Cassie?”

   “Oh, God, don’t remind me…” Cassie grumbled in return.

   Now a few subjects became a curiosity. For one, I had no idea what an airplane was, and I was suspicious as to why Toby would dislike them. However, my most pressing issue, my priority, was receiving more information on the place they called Riverton.

   “What’s Riverton?” I asked Clarissa. “Is it a river?”

   “Riverton is the town that I live in.” She told me.

   “Is there a river?” I pressed further.

   “A couple, yeah. We don’t live in them though.” She giggled, and I must admit that I was relieved.

   She seemed to catch onto the hint that I was hungry for details, and she continued to feed them to me. “It’s a small place just outside of Yellowstone. There are about ten-thousand people, so, yeah, it isn’t too big. It has its own airport though, and that’s where Toby catches most of her flights. I live just on the outskirts, a little out of the way. So don’t worry, there won’t be anyone bugging you. Except me, obviously!” She finished with a high-pitched, singular laugh.

   Suddenly, the opportunity seemed a little less appealing. Nonetheless, a few minutes later, Clarissa announced that she would be heading home, and she said her goodbyes to Cassie. She left to put her things in her car, and during that time, Cassie and I exchanged a few words.

   “You look a little nervous.” She acknowledged.

   I shrugged. “Not really.”

   Cassie rolled her eyes. “You’re so like Toby, it’s unreal. Listen, don’t be nervous, okay? I’ve known Clarissa for years. Sure, she’s a little OTT, but you’ll get used to that.”

   “She talks a lot,” I mentioned, keeping my voice quiet, just in case Clarissa returned. “I don’t know what she’s talking about most of the time…”

   Cassie smiled, and it was that kind of expression that I had quickly grown to. It was so sincere that I had no choice but to take her word, no matter how uncertain I felt I should be.

   “You’ll get used to it.”

   I blushed sheepishly, but when I heard Clarissa finally re-enter the house, I turned to face Cassie directly and bowed my head forward to kiss her.

   “Doesn’t work with Humans, Taku,” Cassie interrupted, chuckling. “No head blades. It would kind of hurt me, you know.”

   “Oh. Sorry.” I sighed, pulling my head back up.

   Clarissa called for me, indicating that she was ready to leave, but Cassie had some final words for me.

   “If she becomes a bit too much, feel free to call me. Clarissa has my number, so you can just ask her.”

   “Thank you.”

   I left with Clarissa, leaving the warm, comfortable Human home and moving back into what was quickly becoming a blizzard. The weather was coming down hard, and Clarissa, wearing several thick fabric layers over her entire body, reacted with such exaggeration, claiming that she had almost been blown away. I stood, ankle-deep in snow, arms wrapped tightly over my chest, waiting for her to steady herself and take us to her car. When she did eventually compose herself, she took me by the hand and led us around the side of Cassie’s home, where a huge silver-blue vehicle stood, its roof and bonnet covered in a generous sprinkling of snow. She guided me to the nearest door, and, after fiddling with a set off keys, golden lights flashed twice on each corner of the car, in time to a light bleeping noise. She put her tiny Human hand around a handle on the door and pulled it open.

   “In you go.” She instructed, and I couldn’t be happier to oblige. I jumped in, landing on a grey, single seat, my nails catching harshly on the fabric. The car had a strange smell, not quite chemical, but at the same time completely unnatural. The seat that I was on was one of a pair in the front of the car, the other with a bulky wheel jutting out in the seat’s direction. In the back were more seats, but there was little of interest, unlike in the front.

   There were buttons everywhere. They were on the door, on the protruding shelf before me, on the car ceiling. Even, as I found while searching, on the underside of the seats.

   All the while, Clarissa had been clearing the larger chunks of snow from the glass layers of the car, and she joined me on the inside when she was satisfied.

   “Comfy?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I was sat within the opening before the seat and under the large plastic shelf, playing with the buttons I had found underneath.

   “What do all these buttons do?” I questioned.

   “Nothing, really. Are you going to sit on the seat?”

   I took the hint and pulled myself back up onto the rather scratchy seat, planting myself on the edge and holding onto the large shelf.

   “Taku…” Clarissa sighed. “It’s obvious you haven’t ridden in a car before. You have to wear your seatbelt.”

   “Seatbelt?”

   She smiled and reached behind me, pulling on a strange extendable attachment that I hadn’t yet spotted. It made a funny noise, but the amusement was short-lasting, when she wrapped the tight belt around my front and locked the other end to the bottom of my seat. I was thrust back against the upright part of the seat, and already I felt immensely uncomfortable, my tail squished beneath the rest of me.

   “I don’t like this seatbelt.” I grumbled, trying to pull it off.

   Clarissa, meanwhile, had just finished clicking her own into place. “You need to wear your seatbelt. It’s the law.”

   “The law? What is-”

   There was a great rumble that stole the end of my sentence, a huge roar that sent the car into a fit of shakes and noise. I leant back into my seat and held tightly onto its underside. I groaned anxiously.

   “Don’t worry, Taku, that’s just the car starting.”

   “Are you sure?” I asked, my voice trembling nervously.

   “I’m sure.” Suddenly, watching out of the glass layers on the sides and front of the car, the world around slowly began to move. Cassie’s home was moving away from us.

   I knew that this was how cars worked, but knowing was a lot less than experiencing in this case. The car roared on, taking breaks whenever Clarissa would fiddle with a large upstanding knob between our seats. It moved faster, charging down the road that separated Cassie’s home from a line of trees. I had never been so petrified.

   Clarissa tried to comfort me the whole time, and after about fifteen minutes I began to calm. Before that, however, I was glued to the back of my seat, completely stiff, sobbing and demanding to leave. She assured me that nothing bad was going to happen, and soon I started to believe her.

   My fears sprung back a couple of times, once when we started on a windy road through a dense patch of trees and ravines where the view of the road ahead was often limited to only a few metres, and then when we emerged from the single roads onto a much larger road, named with the number twenty-six. That was when more cars showed up, a lot of them heading in the opposite direction. I was sure that my hearts skipped a beat more than once.

   But after all the panic, I managed to calm down, becoming more enamoured by all the sights that we past and the places I had never seen before. We were out of our people’s home, exemplified by the presence of such large roads and hordes of Human buildings. I felt so out of place, and yet so fascinated by everything that I saw. It was all so alien.

   Possibly the most intriguing aspect was the addition of great, colourful signs to the sides of the road, which Clarissa explained were for advertisement purposes. There was one that suggested eating at a place called McDonalds, displaying some food stuff called the McChicken burger. Another told me to ignore every other car dealership except Billy’s.

   The one that caught my eye the most said simply _Yellowstone: Home of the Hork-Bajir_ , with a couple pictures of my people to illustrate. I didn’t take much note of the underlying implications at the time.

   It took a long time to get to Riverton, a small town bordering a river, just like Clarissa had described. Even on the lonely outskirts, the task of being there seemed like a daunting one. I was away from my family, away from our people, and far away from home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

   “But Ruga is not dead!”

   “I know, Ruga. You just have to pretend.” I instructed him.

   “What is _pretend_?” He asked.

   “You’re not dead, but you have to make them _think_ that you’re dead.”

   Ruga slumped, lowering his head and pouting. “That sound hard.”

   The three of us, myself, Pluk and Ruga, were making plans among a dense patch of trees that looked over the lake. I was stood tall, balanced upon two upturning branches from the pine that I occupied, and they were both sat on the adjacent trees, looking confused and contradicted.

   “Ruga is scared?” Pluk asked, reaching up a hand to a branch above him to better support his weight.

   “Ruga not scared,” He retorted. “Ruga just not know what truck do.”

   “It may seem a little scary at first,” I told them, recalling my own personal experience. “I was scared, too. But it will be fun! I promise you that.”

   “Pluk like fun!” Pluk interjected.

   “Ruga like fun, too.”

   “So what are we waiting for?” I asked them both.

   Pluk nodded before standing large and tall, the branch beneath him turning under the weight of his eight-and-a-half-foot figure. He bounced ecstatically and yipped to announce his willingness. “We go now!”  

   Ruga looked uncertain, but I knew that even his doubt wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of a new, fun game to play. He got up, not with the same vigour and passion as Pluk, but with intention nonetheless.

   I launched myself from my branch, taking the lead as they both followed on behind. We took the route darting around the edge of the patch of pines, swinging and looping and dashing through as fast as our bodies would allow.

   “Why Taku so slow?” I heard Pluk taunt as he raced past, his extra-long legs and arms providing more pace than I could keep up with.

   “Because Taku toes too fat!” Ruga exclaimed. At least _he_ wasn’t faster than me, and to rub it in, I increased my own speed and attempted to outrun him. He took the challenge and did his best to catch up.

   I suppose that that moment summed up my life for those few months after I met Cassie and Clarissa, and before my responsibilities finally took hold. It was care-free, benign, and utterly self-gratifying. The days rolled on with enough speed to cease the oncoming of boredom, but slow enough to make it ultimately fulfilling and full of adventure. The three of us were never short of things to do, and our energy was valuably spent on charging through our grounds, exploring unchartered territories, and learning through experience the world around us.

   It was summer, and I was just over a year old. My birthday was last week, but our people had no such concept, since they don’t follow calendars. I actually wasn’t certain of the exact day that I was born, but my memory was so vivid, even back then, that I had recalled the shape of the moon and looked it up on a lunar calendar.

   Now past a year old, I was approaching full height, perhaps just an inch or two off. Clarissa had measured me to be seven feet and one inch tall, and commented on how big I had grown. That, however, was nothing overly special, considering that Pluk had continued to grow and stood at eight feet and six inches, extremely tall for our people. Of course, Clarissa had never met Pluk. Maybe she would, someday. Other than that, not much about me had changed. My blades were larger and sharper, though, and meeting strangers was a whole new event, requiring some kind of instinctual display of blade swings and kicks. It was a sort of communication, I suppose, and you could learn so much about a stranger just from the way they swing their elbows or flicks their tails. It was a useful system.

   I thought at first that my time with my friends and family would be extremely limited, what with my new guide being a Human from so many miles away. The first night I stayed over in Riverton was eventful, to say the least.  Clarissa had since compared it to “a bomb going off” in her house. I was so amazed by her home, so intrigued by the Human inventions and ingenuity that I simply had to see everything. Shelves were emptied of books, beds were ridden of sheets and pillows, and various shampoos and gels were sniffed and tasted in the bathrooms. (None tasted very pleasant, and I felt quite ill the next day.)

   Though I slept alone that night, the excitement that had taken a hold had made me exhausted, and I slept better than ever before, even in a foreign tree in a Human environment. I hadn’t slept there since, however, because the distance between our homes meant that we agreed to meet halfway from then on to conduct our lessons. Lessons mostly consisted of learning how to use various Human gadgets, like mobile phones or computers. Clarissa had something called an iPhone, with a feature called “touchscreen”. It didn’t work for me, because unfortunately, my nails don’t give off heat, and take up all the space at the end of my fingers.

   She brought books, too, specifically for certain topics such as road safety and Human mannerisms. It worried me that, though I was doing a lot of learning from books and by word, I wasn’t really experiencing those things first hand, and that was something I brought to Clarissa’s attention often.

   I was perhaps wrong about her. She wasn’t bad at all, and after the first few meetings we finally found each other’s level. I could understand her incessant babbling now, and she understood when I wanted her to be quiet, even when I would say nothing out of politeness. It was much better after that. We even started to play games together, go for walks around the park or sit and chat about our daily lives and how they were so different. I considered us good friends.

   It had been two days since I’d seen her. Our last lessons, the latest in a series, was about objects usually found in the kitchen. This particular series of lesson seemed pointless at first, but Clarissa had convinced me that, even though I may not necessarily spend much time in Human homes, it would be wise to take on that knowledge just in case I was required to be in one. Clarissa’s house, for example, is one that I had visited on numerous occasions. Getting the bathroom and the kitchen mixed up is, apparently, something that needed to be fixed. I wasn’t allowed to bathe with the use of her sink and dry myself off with her dish towels.

    On another note, I found that Toby wasn’t lying when she said that she would be too busy to guide me further. I rarely saw her, and even when I did, she would look totally exhausted. Defeated, even. I let her family help her, and for the most part stayed out of her way.

  When I wasn’t with Clarissa, playing games like Monopoly or watching a movie on a portable television, I was back in the park, watching as the snow of winter slowly withered away, to be replaced by the bright light of the summer sun. The weather went from a freezing cold that required several blankets at night, to a lovely warmth that made sleeping at night a non-issue. Our people, I found, also became a lot more active in the summer months, and during the day, the lands would be teeming with Hork-Bajir going about their daily chores.

   Our increased activity meant that Human activity increased as well. Human tourists were everywhere (though only where they were allowed, most of the time), either arriving with families for hikes or picnics, or delving deeper into the park with tour guides in shiny white trucks. They had a holiday camp set up in Jackson. It was a large series of hotels that was built a few years ago to accommodate the huge number of tourists who wanted to see the park.

   The tourists mostly came for one reason, and that reason was us. It was flattering, but at the same time it made me feel that we were nothing more than a commodity.

   That feeling was often confirmed. The last time large amounts of tourists came to the park, I was just a tiny _kawatnoj_.  I wasn’t as adept at realising how the Humans viewed us as individuals, rather than as a whole. Now I realised the scale of their diversity, especially in their reactions towards us. Clarissa tried to explain it subtly, without offending me, but in the end she just had to tell me that I looked scary. I looked dangerous and intimidating to Humans, akin to mythical creatures that Humans created in fictional tales.

   Maybe I should have felt insulted. It certainly didn’t seem true to me, at least, but then I am a Hork-Bajir, and it would be strange to be scared of my own species. We may very well appear intimidating to them, but to borrow a Human expression, surely it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Most Humans seemed able to look past what they considered to be our frightening appearance.

   Others, however, couldn’t. And yet they still visited the park. I couldn’t stop them, and it’s not that I would have wanted to, but it was never pleasant to watch them twitch and cower in our presence.

   On this particular day, we were on the lookout for Humans being driven around by a guide. They always came in large white trucks and would make exact routes, usually around the lakes and into open grasslands, but always close enough to Hork-Bajir populations. We bounded to an area where our people were scarcer, somewhere away from the more desirable trees or the hot springs, and there we lay in wait for a truck making the final stretch home.

   Within minutes, we caught sight of the sun’s beams reflected from a strong white surface, moving speedily towards us in the distance and following a loose gravel road.

   “Are you both ready?” I asked Pluk and Ruga.

   “Pluk ready.”

   “Ruga ready.”

   I nodded “Okay. Ruga, wait until I give the signal.”

   “Yes. Ruga wait for signal.” He replied, nibbling on some pine bark.

   Pluk and I descended from the field of trees and emerged out into open land. The area was vast, mostly consisting of thick grass and mud, but the ground was unusually flat and with very few obstacles. It was perfect for what we aimed to do.

   “Are you ready, Pluk?” I asked of him.

   “Pluk ready.” He said.

   The truck was approaching fast, but I knew from experience that the drivers, hired by the local tourism centre, were always on the lookout for activity, and often pulled over if Hork-Bajir seemed eager to greet them. When the two of us strolled onto the gravel road, the truck slowed as predicted and came to a stop nearby. I saw seven Humans inside, including the driver who wore a dark green polo shirt with a great yellow ‘Y’ on the front.

   Behind him sat an older couple, complete with baseball caps, sunglasses and excessively large cameras. Those kinds of visitors were usually very pleasant. Quiet and slow, and that made it much easier for communication with our people.

   After them, however, was a small family, consisting of a middle-aged pair and a couple of small male children. The father looked pleased to be there, but the mother looked utterly fed-up, and the two children were noisy. These kinds of visitors were a mixed bag: Some were pleasant enough and treated our people kindly, but others were obnoxious, disrespectful and sometimes downright rude.

   This particular family belonged to the latter group.

   The driver ceased the engine of the truck and rested his arm on the steering wheel. “Looks like we’ve found some more after all.” He called back to the passengers. Then, he looked directly to us. “What are your names, guys?”

   Pluk and I jogged over and stood to the side of the parked vehicle. From this distance, I could easily gauge the reactions of the tourists within. The old couple looked enthusiastic, and they sat there with great smiles, cameras at the ready. The four-person family was slightly more diverse. The children were gawking up at us, pointing out various bodily features (which I had learnt to ignore over the previous months. Nothing is more awkward than a Human saying how much bigger another Hork-Bajir’s elbow blades are.), and shouting incoherent babble. The father was sat back, grinning and looking as if he was just pleased to be out in the Sun. The mother didn’t even treat us with a direct look, and she seemed a little shaken. That was almost always an indication of hidden fear.

   In fact, they all seemed a little more nervous than usual costumers, and most of that anxiety seemed to arise from Pluk’s presence. To be fair, he _was_ excessively large, but I just hoped he wouldn’t realise that it was him that was making them overly anxious.

   “My name is Taku Kelmut,” I said. “And this is my friend, Pluk Mett.”

   The driver appeared to instantly recognise my name, and he removed his sunglasses to stare a little harder at me. My name was well known around the staff members of the park since the incident at the tourism centre. I highly doubted that it would be well known outside of the area though, and indeed none of the other Humans reacted in the same way. Nevertheless, given that they were obviously intimidated by Pluk, they gravitated more to me anyway.

   “Hello there!” The female of the old couple greeted. “My name’s Susan, and this is Harold.” She said, wrapping her tiny hand around his.

   “Hi.” Harold said. “You don’t mind if we take pictures, do you?”

   I smiled invitingly. “Not all at, and thank you for asking.”

   “They’re so polite, aren’t they?” Susan whispered to Harold as they began taking our pictures, an action that made perfect sense to me, but baffled Pluk completely.

   Then, another voice, high-pitched and screechy arose from next to them as they calmly and respectfully took snapshots.

   “Die Yeerk scum! PEW PEW PEW!”

   One of the male children was holding up his hands, as if to impersonate a soldier holding a gun, and he was pointing it at us. The other quickly joined in.

   It was a situation that was rare, but certainly not unexpected. Though we were in no way a threat to the Humans post-war, we were the Yeerk shock troops for quite a long time, and such a fact is impossible to keep out of the media, especially when it came to media concerning the war and recent history. Nevertheless, the idea that we were still seen in such light on occasion was depressing for our people, to say the least.

   What surprised me more was the sheer indifference displayed by their parents. The father didn’t move a muscle, and the mother was still adamant about avoiding eye contact with us. Some part of me thought it was due to embarrassment.

   “Get the big one first!” One child shouted. “We have to save the world from the Yeerks! Kill the Yeerk scum! PEWPEWPEW!”

   “Excuse me,” I said in my quietest, calmest tone to the father, who had finally acknowledged our existence and looked up at us. “Could you please tell your children to stop?”

   He sat us slowly, and uttered simply, “What?”

   “Could you please calm your children down?”

   He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously, his upper lip raised in a grimace as the sun shone into his naked eyes. “Hey, ain’t you that really smart one? The one that’s always on TV?”

   “No. I’ve never been on the television before.” I informed him.

   He grinned and nodded his head nonetheless. “It _is_ that one. Hey kids, say hi to the politician.”

   They didn’t say hi, much more interested in pretending to blast us.

   “Could you please calm your children down.” I repeated, on the edge of losing my temper with them. Even the old couple and the driver were turning away, unwilling to associate themselves with the family.

   The mother sighed, as if her relaxation was being intruded on, and though she still gazed in the other direction, she said, “Calm down, boys.” It was half-hearted, but at least something was said.

   “Yeh,” The father huffed with laughter. “All the Yeerk ones are dead anyway, kids. Save your ammo.”

   I wanted to berate him, and I really could have done, but I noticed Pluk getting disheartened, and decided that expressing my anger might only made things worse. Now, anyway, any hint of sorry I felt for them for the prank we were about to pull had vanished, and were it not for the lovely older couple and the driver, I wouldn’t fix the mess we would inevitably make for them.

   I raised my right hand to my head, and tapped a finger on each of my three head blades – the signal for Ruga to play his part. All we had to do then was to wait and keep the Humans’ attention distracted. That was to be a difficult task, but one that I was confident I could do.

   I moved slightly in front of the truck and leant over, moving my arm forward so that it was within reach of the old couple. “Would you like to learn about Hork-Bajir blades?” I asked. “You can touch, if you’d like.”

   The old couple jumped at the opportunity, and both of them started to run fingers down my wrist and elbow blades, commenting on how sturdy it must be to puncture and tear trees. The family remained as irritating, and I felt bad for Pluk, who was now taking the brunt of the children’s abuse.

   “That blade is for the initial puncture.” I muttered casually while looking over their shoulders into the distance. “And this one is for ripping the bark from the trunk. Each blade has its own special purpose.”

   Ruga appeared, about twenty yards behind the vehicle, and lowered himself to the ground, lying flat on his back. He rolled out his tongue and closed his eyes. It was a pretty convincing fake death, apart from the fact that his midsection still rose and fell noticeably as he breathed.

   He was set, and I raised the false alarm.

   “Look! Our friend is dying!” I bellowed with as much despair in my voice as I could muster. “Please, Humans, help him!”

   The driver was the first to react, and considering that he was problem trained in Hork-Bajir first aid, it came as no surprise. The thing that may have halted our plan was if the other Humans weren’t nosey enough to follow and see what was wrong with our fallen friend. To my relief, they were. The old couple were the first to leave, scuttling along after the driver with Susan offering painkillers that she apparently kept in her purse.

   The family were slower to react. It was the children who moved first.

   “Cool!” One shouted. “I want to see a dead body!”

   The other replied, “Let’s blow it up!”

   They jumped from the vehicle, much to their mother’s dismay. She jumped out and followed them, urging them to stay away from “it”. The father reluctantly followed, blowing raspberries in annoyance that his rest was again disturbed.

   The truck was empty. Our chance had arrived.

   “Kee-raw!” I laughed. “Too easy!”

   Pluk gazed at me, still looking upset and perplexed from his interaction with the Humans. “What happen now?” He asked.

   “We drive, Pluk.” I grinned, before jumping over the closed door of the truck and into the driver’s seat. “Come on in.”

   I could see his ambivalence to the situation, but under my influence, he cast away his doubt and joined me in the passenger’s seat. Instantly, complaints sprang up.

   “So small!” He grumbled, adjusting his tail and scratching at the smooth grey fabric of the seat, his limbs scrunched up horribly against the dashboard. “Hurt Pluk tail and legs.”

   “You’re too big.” I sighed. “You should sit in the back. There is more room. Ruga can come into the front.

   So Pluk dove clumsily into the row of seats behind me, and while he was attempting to adjust back there, I closed my eyes and flicked through my memories. Every time I had sat in Clarissa’s car, I had watched her hands and feet make patterns and organised movement to get the large metal contraptions to function, under her complete control. It looked difficult, but as long as I could copy what she did, I would surely face no problems at all.

   Firstly, though, I had to start the vehicle.

   “Taku hurry!” I heard Pluk whine. “Humans see now.”

   I shook my head and tried to remain at my own pace. I looked to the right of the steering wheel, and there, with a pair of Yellowstone key chains dangling from its bulkier end, was the ignition key. I wrapped two claws around it and twisted. The vehicle choked and spluttered, but with a quaking roar it came to life, the steady vibrations of an active vehicle setting in. Having gotten used to the sensations that vehicles gave, I was perfectly happy to sit there as comfortably as my tail would allow. As I turned my neck to ask Pluk if he was ready, however, I saw him clutching as hard as he could to the seating, looking panic-stricken, with his teeth chattering in time with the cars shuddering.

   I also saw the Humans. The driver had caught onto our game, and he had abandoned Ruga’s clearly healthy body and begun running back to stop us. Being Human, though, he was naturally slow. I had plenty of time.

   The fact that my feet were considerably larger than any Human’s, and designed with three large clawed toes, was, I admit, not ideal for the fine art of driving. I crammed my feet into the small space beneath the seat, and placed my middle toes on the clutch and the accelerator. I closed my eyes again, remembering the order in which everything occurred when Clarissa drove.

   _Clutch down. Change to first gear. Slowly bring up clutch and press down accelerator. Car will lurch forward just slightly. Then release clutch, accelerate. Feel wind in headblades._

My eyes opened, and I found that we were moving. Very slowly, but we were moving nonetheless. I laughed loudly to myself and clapped my hands against the steering while.

   Then the car jumped, lurching forward violently before the engine’s roar withered to a stop. I had stalled it.

   “Make truck stop!” I heard Pluk cry behind me. “Truck loud!”

   “ _Was_ loud.” I corrected him. “I stalled it. Hold on…”

   I tried it again, just as I heard the real driver’s footsteps closing in on us. He shouted a few times, but I could barely hear him over the roar of the truck as I brought it to life once more.

   This time I didn’t make the same mistake. I concentrated more on the vehicle than I did on my premature celebrations. Just as the driver reached the wheels, I pressed down harder on the accelerator, and we were out-pacing him. I was laughing giddily to myself, and I suddenly found that Pluk was joining in. It never took him long to get used to something new.

   “Get back here!” I heard the driver’s faint calls. By now he had given up the chase, and we were about a hundred yards ahead of him. Up to now, I had barely touched the steering wheel and had remained solely in first gear. Now was the time for some more experimenting.

   I placed both hands on the steering wheel, slowed the truck, and turned it 180 degrees. It was a large circle, but it was enough practise to judge the sensitivity of the truck’s steering. We now faced the bewildered Humans, and Ruga, who had risen to his feet. As instructed, had moved a considerable distance away from the Humans.

   “We get Ruga now?” Pluk suggested, and I heard the excitement ring in his voice.

   “We will.”

   I repeated the acceleration routine and we were moving again. With one hand taken away from the steering wheel, I rested it on the gear stick that sat between the two front seats. When I had adjudged that I was going too fast to remain in first gear, I pushed my toe down on the clutch, released the accelerator, and moved the knob to the position marked “2”. I released the clutch and accelerated again, and suddenly, the truck could afford us with greater speed. With it, we could pass the Humans without fear of them attempting to stop us. They wisely moved out of the way. (A _long_ way out of the way. Hork-Bajir have never been, nor would they ever be, renowned drivers.)

   We slowed as we approached Ruga, who, like the Humans, was equally sceptical as to his own safety with me behind the wheel.

   “Jump in, Ruga!” I called to him as we drove up alongside.

   “Truck loud.” He grumbled. “Maybe Ruga not.”

   Pluk laughed. “Truck fun!”

   Ruga whined quietly, but under the pressure of his peers, he couldn’t refuse, and he jumped into the passenger’s seat beside me. Like Pluk, he also struggled with the seat, not intentionally designed for Hork-Bajir backsides, but more pressing concerns arose for him when I began driving again. Predictably, he was even more fearful than Pluk.

   “Truck bad!” He yelled rashly. “Bad! Ruga want to go home!”

   “Calm down, Ruga,” I retaliated. “I’m in complete control of the vehicle.”

   Now feeling more confident with the steering wheel, and with the three of us all safely inside the vehicle, our little adventure began. Ahead of us, the open lands stretched for a couple of miles, and with so few obstacles around to hinder us, we were free to just ride, feel the wind in our faces and the bumps of the ground.

   There were plenty of bumps.

   “Ruga legs hurt.” Ruga moaned, his legs jammed stiffly under the dashboard as the car bounced along the ground. Going at between thirty and forty miles an hour, the bumps that were once indistinguishable from the truck’s natural vibrations had become huge bangs that sent it bounding like a charging grizzly bear. I realised that the roads and lands of Yellowstone weren’t quite as smooth as the freeways. Even I was starting to feel a little sick. Pluk seemed to be unaffected though, laughing joyfully in the seats behind us.

   At least Ruga had gotten over his initial fear. Now he just seemed indifferent to the activity, and more attentive to how ill the journey was making him. About a mile or two from where we had started, I brought the truck to a halt to allow our bodies to settle.

   “Thank you for make truck stop.” Ruga said gratefully, each movement steady and deliberate.

   “It is usually much nicer on proper roads.” I assured them both. “It was fun, though, don’t you th-”

   My sentence was abruptly cut short as Pluk leaned forward over the driver’s seat and vomited over the dashboard. Ruga and I grimaced and backed away slightly.

   “Truck make Pluk belly feel bad.” Pluk groaned.

   “Did you really have to do that inside the truck?”

   Pluk stared at me apologetically and then retreated into the backseats. As he moved, my sight to the edge of the dense patch of trees became clear again, and I noticed something that I had to squint to see. There was a figure watching us intently.

   I froze, and that instantaneous change alerted Ruga to the figure as well.

   “Toby Hamee here.” He said.

   I gulped heavily and quickly turned off the truck’s engine. Our fun was over, and I was already cursing myself for my actions. Pluk and Ruga were anxious, too, but more about Toby telling their parents of our adventure.

   She began to approach us. It wasn’t even a run, but a steady, intent walk. She knew that I wasn’t going to hide from her, though her slow movement allowed me ample time to come up with some excuse.

   Unfortunately, she had no need to rush. I couldn’t think of any decent excuse, and she probably knew that. She _did_ give us enough time to jump out of the car, however.

   “Hello, Toby Hamee.” Ruga greeted innocently.

   “Hello, Ruga. Hello, Pluk.” She gazed at me, and already I saw disappointment in her. “Hello, Taku. May I ask what you are doing with this truck?”

   The three of us clenched our jaws. I scratched behind my head and looked to the ground.

   Pluk spoke first, though. “Ride in truck. Truck very bouncy.”

   Toby grunted lightly in response, and though I wasn’t looking at her, I knew deep down that she still watched me and me alone.

   “Hork-Bajir do not belong in vehicles,” Toby said forcefully. “They are very dangerous machines, and I would hate for someone to be injured because of some silly prank you wish to play.”

   We were silent again, accepting and acknowledging our chastisement.

   “Will you do this again?” She asked the three of us.

   “No.” We all replied.

   “I understand the need for entertainment, but I insist to my people that Humans and their equipment are not to be toyed with. Is that understood?”

   “Yes.”

   “Pluk, Ruga,” Toby began. “I wish to speak to Taku alone. You two should go home. Apologise to those Humans that you left stranded on the way back, while you’re at it.”

   They left, both passing me a pitying look as they did. Once they were out of range, Toby came closer to me, leaning against the side of the truck and peering inside.

   “Scratches, tears, marks. Stomach contents on the dashboard…” She reported. “I honestly thought such a prank was beyond you, Taku.”

   “How much did you see?” I asked meekly.

   “All of it.” She said bluntly. “You didn’t travel far, and I was easily able to keep up.”

   “I’m sorry.” I apologised, slumping against the side of the truck and wincing as my elbow blade scraped up its side.

   “I hope that Clarissa hasn’t been teaching you to drive one of these death traps.” Toby grunted, turning away from the vehicle’s interior and leaning close beside me.

   “No, she didn’t teach me anything to do with driving. Not intentionally.” I said. “I just thought it was fun when she drove me around. I wanted to show Pluk and Ruga what it was like.”

   “But cars are incredibly dangerous, Taku,” She responded, her voice raised. “You could have gotten killed, or gotten someone else killed. Hork-Bajir and Human ingenuity very rarely mix.”

   “I know…” I grunted, crossing my arms over my chest.

   “Driving a truck, Taku? I’ve never even _heard_ of such a prank by one of our people. As a seer you are meant to be responsible, not some troublemaker constantly trying to find more ways to badly influence everyone else.”

   “I know.” I huffed again, more forcefully this time.

   “You think this was just another petty prank? You would have been arrested if Human law enforcers were around! It’s against the law to steal a vehicle.”

   “I was just borrowing it.” I defended. “I was going to drive it back to the Humans.”

   “I understand that, Taku,” She sighed. “I should get Clarissa to teach you about Human law. You’ll end up in a prison cell if these sorts of activities are continued.”

    I gave a half-laugh and looked up to her. “How many Hork-Bajir have _ever_ been arrested before?”

   “Only one.”

   I was a little stunned. “Really? Who was it?”

   Suddenly, Toby grew a guilty smirk on her face, and she looked away in embarrassment. I laughed again.

   “ _You_?!” I gasped. “What did you do?”

   “Public intoxication during a presidential visit. I drank several bottles of very expensive wine. Strangely enough, I don’t remember doing it.”

   “That makes sense.” I added.

   “Just,” She said, bringing back the topic at hand. “Start behaving like an adult. You have a lot more influence than you might think, and I would hate for someone to intimidate you, thinking that ‘borrowing’ and driving Human vehicles is the right thing to do.”

   “Okay.” I grunted in reply. Then, something dawned on me, and I asked, “Why were you watching me, anyway?”

   “I was coming to ask you something. I recently talked to Clarissa, and she says that you are progressing well under her guidance.” She paused and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Though from what I have just seen, I begin to doubt her opinion… Anyway, I was going to ask you to do a favour for me. A job which will allow you to be around my staff. I want you to come with me to my office.”

   “You have an office?”

   “Of course.”

   I truly felt honoured, and I couldn’t resist a smile to announce it. “Do you mean right now?”

   Toby nodded. “Perhaps we could take the route that takes us by my home and stop there first. Mother misses your company.”

   “I would like that.” I said.

   Toby grinned cruelly. “But not until after you have driven this car back to those Humans. You will also clean up the stomach contents and apologise for your reckless behaviour.”

   I groaned, tore up some grass, and started cleaning.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

   It was a long run to the location of Toby’s office. Just north of Jackson, the office complex just breached the boundary of our people, almost like a direct connection between us and the Humans. It was a very modern building, much more pleasing to the eye than some buildings in big Human cities that I had seen on Clarissa’s television, and in a way it seemed to fit in perfectly with the environment it sat in. It had an almost log cabin feel to it, but much wider and much taller. Unlike the small number of tourist locations on the map around Yellowstone, it was more isolated, and it was only really frequented by its employees. That’s what Toby had told me on the way there, anyway.

   It was mid-afternoon by the time we had arrived, and the long journey had left me desperate for a rest. I was absolutely amazed at how Toby, at least ten years of age, seemed much fitter than I was, and even she had a subtle cockiness to her stride as we bounced into the building’s car park.

   “You must work on your fitness.” She breezed, covering a light chuckle.

   I panted abruptly, doing my very best to appear unaffected. “It’s a long way to run, and I have never been known specifically for physical fitness.”

   “Nor have I.” Toby replied instantaneously. “Come on, I want us to be done here before it gets dark. We still have to get home afterwards.”

   I groaned at the prospect, but followed sprightly after her.

   Upon entry to the complex, I was immediately impressed by the clean, attractive interior. Patterns of pure white walls and blue tinted glass rose up all around us, an open layout consisting of four floors reaching upwards and split down the middle, connected in the centre by a single elevator shaft that joined the sides of each floor with bridges. The whole piece looked like some big blue/white bug stood erect.

   A reception desk stood to our right as we entered the building, its sole staff member talking quietly into a phone. I don’t think she saw us, but then, I also didn’t think it really mattered. Toby worked here, so it would make sense that our presence wasn’t seen as unusual.

   “It’s pretty big…” I whispered.

   “It has to be,” Toby explained. “All the people who work behind the upkeep of the park, all the bills that are proposed with regard to Yellowstone, all the ideas for how to improve life for Hork-Bajir and our home… They all come to this building. This is Hork-Bajir headquarters.”

   “Filled mostly with Humans.” I interjected.

   “Yes. It is.” Toby replied truthfully, a tinge of dejection in her voice. “Would you like me to show you around?”

   I shrugged. “If it’s possible, I’d like a drink first.”

   Toby smiled warmly, something so fundamentally odd. “Sure. We can sit in the lounge.”

   She walked us past the reception desk and to a large hole in the wall. Inside were rows and circles of seats, purple and blue in colour, surrounding a couple of large, light-brown coffee tables. There were no Humans present, and nor had I seen any on the outside, apart from the receptionist.

   I saw my goal in the corner of the room: Water, contained in something the Humans called a drink dispenser. It was tall and white, with a bulbous, transparent top in which the water sat evenly. I zigzagged past the maze of low-lying seats and started to inspect the strange contraption, just as Toby stopped me.

   “Don’t drink from that, Taku,” She called from across the room. “I’ll get you some bottled water. You shouldn’t drink from that.”

   I frowned back at her. “Why not?”

   “Please, just don’t. I won’t be long.”

   With a huff I sat myself down on one of the seats, taking my time to adjust my ever-obstructing tail and gazing aimlessly around the small indent of the building. The area I was sat in was relatively dull, and really the only thing of notice was the arrangement of the seats, as if several small meetings had taken place around each coffee table, presented with its audiences in tight, isolated circles. Toby arrived soon with a couple bottles of water for the two of us, and I asked a question that was quick to bubble up in my head.

   “Where is everybody?” I asked. “If this place is so important to Yellowstone, why are there so few people here?”

   “It’s Sunday.” Toby replied, passing me my water bottle. I twisted off the lid and gulped down half of it in one go.

   “It is?”

   “Yes. I think that maybe I should ask Clarissa to buy you a calendar.”

   I laughed lightly. “Probably.”

   On that note, I took a second gulp and finished my water. Whilst in the midst of hoisting it upwards to get to the last drops, my left eye noticed two Humans coming to find a seat in the lounge. They were talking amongst themselves, but, unsurprisingly, they noticed us quickly.

   “Ah, Toby!” One said, a rather short Human male with perfectly straight hair and thick glasses. He wore a thick red tie over a slightly creased white shirt. “Hi!”

   The other Human - a male who was a little taller, with longer, curly hair and a generally more casual appearance - introduced himself with a simple nod.

   “Hello, Jonathan,” Toby said to the first Human, and then to the second, “Jason.”

   I hadn’t escaped their notice, and both of them, now taking the seats directly opposite to us, looked over me curiously.

   “Who’s your friend?” The one named Jonathan asked, still gawking up at me.

   “This is Taku Kelmut.” Toby told them.

   The pair looked almost bewildered, and instantly I felt a metaphorical spotlight hover above me. A large grin erupted over Jonathan’s face, and before I knew it, he was stood before me, shaking my hand.

   “I’ve heard so much about you!” He exclaimed, having to use both of his hands to adequately shake mine. “It’s so amazing that you’re finally here!”

   “Please,” I heard Toby interrupt. “Show a little more decorum, Jonathan.”

    The human quickly ceased his action and cleared his throat. He was still smiling, though. “Oh, sorry. We’ve just been so excited to finally meet you, that’s all.” He told as he retreated back to his seat. I could still decipher that he had to resist Toby’s command, and though such a greeting was flattering, I was also a little shaken.

   “Hello,” I greeted them both. “It’s nice to meet you.”

   “It’s great to meet you, too, Taku.” Jonathan beamed.

   Toby grunted quietly and spoke to me. “I told the staff about you a few months ago. I thought it was something they had to know, especially after the rumours of your presence spread. They have been eager to meet you.”

   I didn’t really need Toby ‘s words, because the way Jonathan had reacted had told me all that I needed to know.

   “How old are you, Taku?” The Human named Jason asked. It was the first time he had spoken, and he came across as much more laid-back and controlled than Jonathan.

   “I am a year old.” I responded.

   “So young…” Jonathan commented appreciatively.

   Jason smiled. “You’ve come to see where we work?”

   “Yes. Toby said that I could come to see her office.” I confirmed.

   “You’re more than welcome to stick around,” He said. “It shouldn’t be too uncomfortable, since a lot of what we have here was actually built to accommodate Toby. This is a Hork-Bajir-friendly environment.”

   “Thank you.” I replied. “It looks very nice. Very… white.”

   “It is the cosiest building I have ever entered.” Toby concurred. “And the staff here are wonderful. You will discover that quite quickly.” She raised a hand and indicated to both the Humans in turn. “Jonathan has been here for a couple of years now. He arranges sponsorship deals with both local businesses and large national ones, one of biggest sources of income. Jason is the head of the science committee, and is in charge of granting permission to certain groups who wish to enter the Hork-Bajir habitat to perform experiments or surveys, usually scientists from prestigious universities. He’s been here for as long as I can remember.”

   “I have seen scientists before,” I said to Jason. “They _said_ they were scientists.”

   “Not many manage to get in.” Jason stated quietly, and with a certain flair to his vocal delivery. “We like to be very strict when it comes to letting groups operate in the park.”

   A question arose, and I simply had to ask. I looked over to Toby. “What is your job here?”

   “I am in charge of the staff here,” She replied. “And when they have completed a task, whether it is a proposed bill or granted permission for park operations, it all has to go through me. I oversee everything and make sure that it suits the needs of my people.”

   I felt a slight shiver run through my back. “Do I have to do that, too?”

   Toby laughed, as did Jonathan and Jason.

   “Of course not,” She answered. “You have no training.”

   I breathed a quiet sigh of relief and grinned to assure them all of my happiness. I don’t quite know why I suddenly felt like some huge wave of responsibility was going to crash down on me at that moment, but it was a dreadful feeling. Now, I was just curious as to what job Toby wanted me to perform, if any.

   We spoke to the two Humans for about another five minutes, had another drink, and then Toby took us up three floors to her office. We travelled via elevator, a fast and efficient way to ascent the building, but an unnerving one at that. One side of the elevator was walled purely by glass, and I watched as the ground dropped from under our feet. When we reached Toby’s floor, we stepped out onto a narrow platform, and as we turned a corner we saw lines of computers on our right and doors leading to staff offices to the left. A couple of Humans were operating the computers, and both kindly greeted us as we passed, though they were both curious as to my presence. Once they received my name, their confusion passed. I was clearly well-known here, and I began to suspect that I had been expected for some time.

   Toby’s office sat at the very end of the corridor, and from what I could gather, it looked out over the railings and over the entirety of the building below. Quite apropos, considering her duties.

   She led us inside, and I was quickly welcomed by a cool, fresh breeze and the low drone of cooling fans. I instantly started to make myself at home, indulging in the new surroundings, consisting of the same white walls but masked with a fitting theme of green and brown, the colours of trees and grass blending seamlessly into the small, confined office space. The floor was spotless dark-green carpeting that handily eliminated the noisy click that our nails would otherwise make on harder floorings, and even the seat that I noticed under the office desk was more suitable, a great hole in the back easily wide enough for even the thickest tail.

   Aside from the plentiful floral decorations and appropriate furnishings, lines of picture frames marched horizontally along the walls, some large and some small, and mostly depicting groups of Humans and the one Hork-Bajir I knew so well stood with them. Those pictures took a hold of my interest much more than the multitudes of files and plants that otherwise invaded the room.

   Toby walked up behind me and found where my gaze was rested. I was looking at a picture of Toby, stood with a group of three suited Humans in front of a large building. She, along with one of the Humans, was holding up a large piece of paper.

   “That was seven years ago,” Toby mentioned. “Back when we were still getting used to Yellowstone. That picture was for the opening of a specialist Hork-Bajir ward in a local hospital. Granted, it was essentially a barn down the road, but it was a great achievement back then. We’ve accomplished so much since.”

   I gave a cursory glance to the entire wall of photos and summarised, “You must have shaken a lot of hands. That’s what Humans do, isn’t it?”

   “Yes. It is much the same as a Hork-Bajir kiss. It is used as a formal greeting.”

   I nodded. “Clarissa told me that. I always forget, though.”

   “You’ll get used to it.”

   I moved on from the hospital photograph to ogle a few more of the life-like still images. They were much the same, just Toby exchanging handshakes with important Human figures and posing with larger groups of people who had achieved some great goal. There were a few that stood out however.

   “There’s one with you and Clarissa,” I noted for Toby, who was following me around the room, awaiting the need to explain the meaning behind any photograph I asked of her. “And there is one with… I recognise this Human.” I narrowed my eyes to an exceptionally large picture frame, the photo within showing Toby shaking hands with a very smartly dressed Human, stood before an American flag.

   “The President of the United States.” Toby aided.

   “I’ve seen him on the television. Many times.” I said.

   “Few people are more important.” Toby stated matter-of-factly. “Maybe none.”

   “And you shook his hand?”

   Toby smiled and turned her eyes to her feet. “That picture was taken just a few months after the end of the war. Hork-Bajir were spread across the globe as they all rid themselves of their Yeerks. The president was very keen on keeping the situation under control. He wanted guidance, and I was happy to lend a hand. Of course, with our two races being so unaccustomed to each other, contact was initially made from at least twenty yards. The Humans feared for their safety. Eventually, though, we settled on a few deals and ensured safety for Hork-Bajir through numerous treaties and bills. I had to learn all about Human politics in that short space of time. When we were finally given the go-ahead to move to Yellowstone, that photo was taken, and the Human-Hork-Bajir alliance was formed.” She grinned inwardly. “That’s unofficial, but that’s what we like to call it.”

   I am not afraid to admit that I had never expected Toby to be so influential. Even then, I felt my lower jaw quiver in reverence, taken aback as I began to realise how essential she was.

   And I was like her.

   “Will I ever meet the president?” I asked giddily.

   Toby smiled widely. “Maybe someday, if you work hard enough.”

   It didn’t take me long to nosey through all of the photographs mounted on the wall. Toby had busied herself moving some files around, and seemed to be searching for something misplaced. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something else on her desk that I had missed. It was another picture frame, smaller and balanced with a flap on the back. On closer inspection, I found that it was a picture of Toby’s family, completely uncertain of how to pose for a photo, but all present nonetheless. Such a picture seemed out of place in the sea of formality around us, and yet Toby kept it on her desk, closer to her than any other photo in the room.

   I jumped when I heard her breathe behind me, and I fumbled to put down the picture. Recomposing, I turned and discovered her holding a television remote and a pad of paper.

   “Taku,” She began. “Shall we discuss what I have brought you here for?”

   “I guess so,” I stammered, “Does it require us watching television?”

   “In a way, yes. Have a seat.”

   She waved a hand towards the large chair beside her desk, and I promptly sat down in it. It was amazingly comfortable, so much more so than any chair I had attempted to sit in previously. Meanwhile, Toby had wheeled up a small metal trolley, a big boxy television set laid atop of it.

   “So we came to watch television…” I grunted, slightly disappointed. “I _do_ like television, but…”

   “I brought you here because I wanted to ask you a question. That question is: Do you want a job?”

   I blinked up at her, stumped by her abruptness.

   She elaborated, “I have been keeping in close contact with Clarissa ever since you met her. She has updated me regular with your process. Do you remember when she started asking you to write about what you saw on television?”

   I tapped on my snout ponderously and, yes, I could recall Clarissa handing me a piece of paper and requesting that I write about a show that I had been watching. I nodded to Toby.

   “I asked her to set you that work a few times, and she sent me the resultant papers. You have a gift for the written word, and you have improved vastly since the first essay.”

   “Thank you.” I managed to mumble.

   “I think you are ready, Taku.” She said, resting a hand on the television set. “Would you like to join the team here?”

   My ambivalence toward the situation resulted in a few mumbled grunts.

   “Is there something wrong, Taku?”

   I stared hard at her incredulously. “I’m not qualified. Don’t I need to spend years at a Human college before I take on a role in a place like this? The staff here all look specifically trained, and I have no qualifications for anything!”

   Toby huffed out a laugh. “You are qualified.”

   “How?”

   “You are a Hork-Bajir.”

   I blinked and cocked my head, not quite picking up the on message Toby was trying to perceive. “And how does that make me more qualified than a Human who has worked for years for a degree?”

   “Because, even with no official qualifications, you know more about Hork-Bajir than a great majority of Humans who have spent years simply reading books. That makes you the second most qualified person here, aside from myself.”

   I slumped. “I’m not sure…”

   “Do _I_ have a degree?” Toby continued. “Of course not, and nor do I have the time to take any courses, and yet here I am. When it comes right down to it, Taku, nobody knows Hork-Bajir better than Hork-Bajir, and that is why I am asking you to help.”

   I was doubtful, but in the end, I had always trusted Toby’s word. She hadn’t let me down before. However, a nagging part of me wanted to consider further, and take in more information.

   “What would you have me do here?” I asked her.

   Toby tapped a finger on the television screen. “I have been working in this building ever since its creation in 2003, and though we have seen plenty of staff members come in over the years. There has never been enough. It is not that there hasn’t been interest among potential candidates, or a lack of qualifications to their names. We have a different way of hiring our staff. Yes, qualifications do matter to an extent, but we want to hire people who wish to work here because of what we do. We hire candidates who want to work here for Hork-Bajir, not for themselves. Unfortunately, not many candidates portray such a determination. Hence, over these last few years, it has been I who has taken on the jobs for which we cannot find staff. It’s incredibly tiring. I was hoping that perhaps you could lessen my load. Start small at first, and you can take on jobs whenever you feel ready.”

   “You want me to be an assistant?”

   Toby rubbed at her lower jaw. “In a sense. At least, for the latter stages of your training. Then, you may help in whatever way you wish. There are a number of jobs here and there. Now, though, I want you to begin your training.”

   I smiled, already caving in to her proposal in my mind. My imagination had already begun to bubble up future scenarios, shaking hands with presidents, opening up hospital wards, bringing necessary rights and freedoms to our people and forming lasting alliances with other races. That could be me.

   “How do I start?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat.

   Toby held the pad of paper towards me. “I want you to write another essay for me. A report on a television broadcast I recorded last week.”

   I took the pad and flicked through the corners of the pages with a claw. I laid it down on my lap and took a pen that had been dropped randomly on the desk, and began writing my name on the card cover of the pad. My writing, according to Clarissa, was distinctly messy, barely legible.

   “What was the programme about?” I asked, still writing down my second name “Is it that show called Mythbusters? I saw that last week. It was very good.”

   “I’m afraid not,” Toby said to my dissatisfaction. “It’s a documentary about Yellowstone. Its focus is on the geography, but Hork-Bajir are given some mention on occasion. I want you to do a report on the way Hork-Bajir are portrayed in the documentary.”

   “Okay,” I muttered. “That sounds easy enough.”

   Toby smiled. “Good, I’m glad you approve of the task. I will give you a three-day deadline. You have full access to my office and the facility, and perhaps you can also spend some time adjusting to the new environment and introducing yourself to our staff. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

   “I’m already rather cosy.” I replied with a grin. “I can get this report done by tonight.”

   Toby chuckled, but shook her head. “Your parents will want you home before nightfall. I will allow you to watch the documentary now, but then I will take you home. You can come back tomorrow.”

   I huffed, now a little too eager to begin my new project. “Mother and Father would know that I am with you or Clarissa.”

   “You are here with me, and, hence, you are my responsibility.” Toby explained. “I will take you back as soon as the movie has finished.”

   She reached forward, switched the television on, and I began.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

   “… And then Debbie told me that she liked Andy, and I was just, like, whoa, don’t you know what you’re getting yourself into?! Everyone knows that Andy cheated on Tanya, he just hasn’t admitted it yet. But Debbie has never cared what we tell her. She’s a bit of a rebel, not that it’s ever helped her in any way. She always ends up with dicks. _I_ , on the other hand, found the sweetest guy in the whole of Wyoming… All the girls are jealous, you know. Even Amy, and she only ever goes for the “ _bad boys_ ”…”

   “Clarissa,” I interrupted. “Is this helpful in any way?”

   “Hey, I just wanted to make conversation.” She grumbled, though she remained sat cross-legged on Toby’s desk, filing her finger nails. “I don’t see why we have to sit here in silence.”

   I dropped the pad of paper that I held down onto my lap and looked directly over to her. “I want to get this essay finished, and I find it very difficult to concentrate with you talking at me all the time.”

   “Alright, alright, don’t bite my head off. I just wanted to talk.”

   I sighed apologetically. “I’m sorry. I really would love to sit here chatting all day, but this essay isn’t easy, and Toby set me a deadline of midday tomorrow.”

   Clarissa snorted. “She’s always so formal. What’s she going to do if you miss the deadline? Give you detention? Send you to the naughty corner?”

   “I just don’t want her to think I’m lazy, or incompetent.”

   Clarissa jumped down from the desk that she sat on, bringing her hour-long grooming session to an end. “She wouldn’t think that. Anyway, you have a whole day to finish the essay. It can’t be that hard.”

   “It is.” I remarked, twiddling the tiny pen in my fingers and then tapping it on the end of my snout. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s impossible.”

   She bent forward and looked to the pad from over my shoulder. She would notice only four lines of writing on a single page. “So why would she set it?”

   “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” I mumbled, whilst staring at the now inactive television screen. I took the remote from the desk and rewound the tape that held the recorded documentary I had to analyse. The video player roared into action.

   Clarissa pulled up a smaller chair beside me, one more fitting for a Human, and sat down on it. “What’s the programme called?”

   “Yellowstone. And that’s what it’s about. Just Yellowstone, and Toby wants me to write about how it portrays Hork-Bajir.”

   “So what’s the problem?”

   “There are no Hork-Bajir in it. It is not a topic it covers.”

   Clarissa narrowed her eyes and looked back at my notes. “You sure it’s the right documentary?”

   “Yes,” I replied. “Toby stayed to watch it with me that first time.”

   I lifted up the pad once again as the video player announced that it had reached the beginning of the recording. However, I put the remote down, choosing instead to take the break that Clarissa seemed to be pushing for. She looked quizzical.

   “So, you have to write about how it shows Hork-Bajir, and there are no Hork-Bajir in it?”

   “We are mentioned in passing a couple of times,” I said. “But nothing substantial.”

   “Well… maybe that’s it.” Clarissa concluded, smiling as if incredibly proud of herself.

   “That’s it?” I mumbled, rubbing at the back of my neck.

   She nodded. “Yeah! Maybe she wants you to explain _why_ there are no Hork-Bajir in it.”

   I blinked, and then looked back down at my pad before slumping. It was a strange feeling of defeat that took over me. “I should have thought of that…”

   Clarissa took the pad and the pen from between my fingers, and started to write down a few bullet points. As an aside, she mentioned, “Toby’s always been a bit sly when it comes to these things. Don’t get upset about it.”

   “But…” I huffed. “I should have figured that out. You weren’t supposed to help!”

   “Don’t be such a baby.” She grinned, handing back the pad of paper. She had written down five different notes in much greater handwriting than my own. I sighed and placed it aside.

   “Thank you.” I said meekly to acknowledge her assistance.

   “That’s what I’m here for.” She replied. “Just don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? You’re only a year old, Taku. You’re, like, a kid still.”

   “I am almost as tall as Mother and Father now.” I rebutted.

   “That doesn’t matter. You’re still technically a kid until you’re two. And believe me, when you’re not stuck in this boring-ass office, it’s easy to tell.”

   I snorted, but she must have caught the slight sign of an unrestrained smile. “I’m all grown up, Clarissa.”

   “No, you’re not!” She laughed.

   “Well, I will be soon…” I countered.

   She smiled up at me with care-free eyes and teeth so white that they could almost be a source of light by themselves. “Don’t worry about it for a while. Communicate with me. I’m bored.”

   I lifted and turned my seat so that it faced towards her, and sat back into a more relaxed position. “Okay. What about?”

   “I don’t know…” She huffed. “What’s it like having a tail?”

   I was taken aback by her question, and I instantly recognised that she had no immediate topic in mind. Nevertheless, the small talk was a good relief from watching the video on repeat, and I wholeheartedly welcomed it. “It’s fine, I guess. To be honest, I was always curious how Humans can stay balanced without one.”

   “It’s pretty easy once you get used to it.” She said. “Humans wouldn’t look right with a tail. Although, apparently, we _used_ to have them.”

   “Used to?” I asked, bewildered.

   “Yeah, I don’t know, we used to be monkeys or something. All tails and body hair and everything.”

   “You still have hair.” I pointed out.

   “Yeah, but not all over our bodies, thank god. Body hair is so _ugh_!” She exclaimed, sticking out her fat Human tongue. “Especially back hair.”

   I laughed, and then pointed to the top of my head. “Why have Humans still got hair on their heads?”

   She scoffed. Clearly, it was a silly question. “Because it makes us look fantastic, duh. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have my hair.” She swept a hand through a flowing, lengthy section of brown hair and pulled it back over her shoulder.

   “Is that what it is used for?”

   “In my case.” She grinned. “You know, I was thinking of buying you a wig. Just, you know, to try it out. I think a Hork-Bajir would look great with hair. I’ll throw in a few clothes as well. Oh yeah, and obviously some great shoes with it. Oh god, you’re going to look fantastic!”

   I chuckled and lightly shook my head. “I am happy with my scales, thank you, and I have no need for clothing. Thanks for the offer, though.”

   “I think you should try. You could really impress, you know.” She winked. However, I didn’t quite understand why that would be an issue, and I scratched at my neck, puzzled.

   “What is hair like?” I asked. “Doesn’t it hurt when you cut it?”

   “Does it hurt? No, not unless you pull on it.” She replied, twiddling a finger through it.

   “What does it feel like?”

   She laughed nervously. “Well… like hair, I guess.”

   “I have never felt hair before.” Then, I plucked up the courage and asked, “May I feel it?”

   In my time spent with Humans, I had found that they tended to be unusually fussy about physical contact. Even Clarissa, who I had known for a long time, was reluctant. She explained it as fear of getting “sliced up by the blades”. Certainly, Humans were more averse to it than Hork-Bajir.

   She raised an eyebrow, but she was not as uneasy as I thought she would be. “Um… sure, I guess. But wait, let me see your hands first.”

   I held out my hands palm-up in front of me, and she looked a little closer, humming to herself and turning my hands over to check the back.

   “Why is this necessary?” I asked.

   “I don’t want to get dirt in my hair.” She chuckled. “I hate it when that happens because it takes ages to get out.”

   I stared at my hands. “So, are they clean enough?”

   “Yeah,” She exclaimed. “I guess so, but you have to let me do something in return.”

   I cocked my head at her, waiting for the offer.

   She continued, “I’m going to have to file down those nails. Sorry, but those are _way_ too sharp.”

   I pouted and lifted my hands to inspect them myself. My claws were indeed long and sharp, but that aided in gripping to the sides of trees and picking unwanted bits out of food.

   I was about to protest, but Clarissa saw it coming and quickly diverted the conversation. “After I’m done with you, Taku Kelmut, you’ll be a different person! I’ll do those big nasty claws of yours, maybe even those head blades. Those wristblades _definitely_ need some work, too. Of course, blades aren’t my speciality. Toby never let me mess with hers, but everyone tells me that I’m, like, _the_ expert on this kind of thing. You’re going to look adorable!”

   “Am I not adorable already?” I asked with a smirk, offering her my hands again and deciding to resign control over my own body, simply to see the result she was promising.

   Clarissa raised an eyebrow at my question, which, to be fair, wasn’t serious. Her answer was an unenthusiastic “Guess so”, and she took her nail file from the side of the desk and quickly got to work on my claws. She took one at a time, complained about the lack of grooming on plenty of occasions, and scraped away so that the tips, once sharp and useful, were now blunt, rounded, and pretty much useless. All the while, a new thought was scratching its way into my mind, and I sat in silence to consider. Clarissa would mutter something on occasion, mostly about how my nails were so sturdy and hard to wear down, though sometimes she would ask if I was okay, perhaps seeing doubt in me as I gazed down at the office flooring. I assured her that I was fine each time, and that I was just thinking over the essay I had been set.

   Eventually, though, I plucked up the courage to ask Clarissa the question that she had unintentionally put into my head. “Clarissa?” I asked. “How do Humans see Hork-Bajir?”

   She didn’t look up, still busy with my left hand’s fingers. “With our eyes, silly.”

   “No,” I said. “I didn’t mean like that.”

   Now she did look up, and her filing slowed nearly to a stop. She still scraped lightly against the nail, but now her focus was on me. “You mean, like, what we think when we see Hork-Bajir?”

   “Precisely.”

   Clarissa pursed her lips and looked away. “Well, I can’t really speak for the whole Human race…” She excused.

   “Could you speak from experience?” I requested. “If what I hear is true, most Humans only discovered us at the start of the decade. When you saw us for the first time, what did you see?”

   She laughed nervously again, and now the nail file came away from my hands. “Does it really matter these days?”

   “I think it does,” I replied, playing with the now blunted tips of my claws. “Maybe not in your case, but for others, it may be much different.”

   She sighed heavily, but she did not display the urge to walk away or avoid the question any longer. “You want my honest answer? Okay. No offense, but you guys are pretty scary on first viewing.”

   “You were scared of us.” I noted. “What was the first thing you saw?”

   It was strange seeing Clarissa act awkwardly, because it was something so rarely, if ever seen. I could tell that she feared insulting me, in case our friendship would become strained or awkward. She arose from her kneeling position and leant up against the desk beside me, making sure that she didn’t appear to move away from me to illustrate what was to be her main point.

   “Some video footage got leaked a little while after the war became public knowledge. I think I was watching CNN at the time. Well, my mother was. She always watches CNN, and I was home from college for the weekend. I had just heard about what was going on, and I was scared that my family were slaves of those Yeerk things, so I stayed with them. Mom called me into the kitchen one morning, shouting ‘Clarrie! Clarrie! Come look at these things!’ So I watched the small kitchen TV with her and I saw this just, like, massive space alien in some black and white security footage. It was mostly just a few snapshots, but then a video came out. A small group of Hork-Bajir-controllers, I think. We watched the news for hours, because we were so damn scared that these big aliens would attack us in our sleep. I lived in Maine at the time though, so, you know, it was the opposite end of the country, but we had no idea where they were.”

   I nodded, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. “Is that how most people felt?”

   “Pretty much.” Then she laughed a little, and said, “Even Derek Fisher, the loud-mouth wrestler guy who lived down the street would hardly leave his house. All we knew about you guys was that you were big, fast and covered in blades. Don’t take this the wrong way, or anything, but you guys look like something cooked up in some apocalyptic ancient myth. And you were out to get us.”

   “I must ask,” I said, after she seemed to pause. “How did you end up here?”

   “Well, I’ve always liked animals.” She hummed.

   I stared at her, baffled. “Thanks…”

   “Let me finish!” She exclaimed humorously. “I was in college studying to be a social worker, but I always loved being around animals. And before you get all offended, thinking I’m comparing you to a squirrel, or whatever, it meant that when the war ended, and we had all these weird space aliens walking around, it was like some kind of true calling. I could use my skills I got from my degree, _and_ use it to help things that weren’t Human.” She finished there with a big smile.

   “I’m still quite offended.” I thought to add.

   “I don’t think any less of you because you’re not Human.” She said in defence.

   I nodded, and I knew well enough that she meant no offense. “But why would you want to work with those you were frightened of?”

   “I wasn’t frightened of you _then_ ,” She snorted with an abrupt laugh. “A lot changed when the war ended. We found out that Yeerks were just these little slug things in people’s heads. It wasn’t _you_ guys invading us. Then when the media told us that you were just big green tree-huggers, I just sorta… lost my fear.”

   “Despite my blades?” I asked, raising my arm to display the blades that lined it.

   “Yeah, because I knew that Hork-Bajir probably wouldn’t hurt me. Not on purpose, anyway. It’s like… uh… It’s like, when you’re in a kitchen, and the chef is stood next to you holding a large knife. You kinda know that he’s going to use it to slice food up, and not you.”

   I grinned widely. “So I am like a chef holding a large knife?”

   “I guess.” She smiled in return and patted me on the arm. “I don’t think you should try cooking though. Just saying.” With that out of the way, she returned to her previous position on the floor. I offered my hands again, palm up, so that she could continue with her filing. Once restarted, she asked the same question back to me, and it took me a little by surprise. “What did you think when you first saw Humans, Taku?”

   I cocked my head and considered the question, not expecting it to be thrown back at me. “The first time? I was with my father. He took me to see some tourists who came into the park. Really, it was no different to any other time I’ve seen tourists. They all react in one of three ways. Either they embrace us… not literally… or they enjoy us but keep their distance, or they are visibly fearful.”

   “Yeah, but those ones are usually just dragged in by their kids. Mostly old people who think you’re, like, the devil.”

   “That’s why I ask,” I explained. “There is such a variety in the reaction, and I can’t help but wonder why. You see nothing to fear in me, and you are kind enough to teach me, to guide me. Others seem to want to be as far away as possible.”

   She pursed her lips and nodded her head acceptingly. “I don’t think Humans have ever been the most accepting race. Even the Andalites moan about it. Until they’re offered a donut.”

   “It’s strange to me,” I commented with a sigh. “That Humans know so much about us, about our habits, our needs, our culture, and yet we know so little about you. Humans invade the park for two months every year to watch us live, and learn about us, but I know of no Hork-Bajir other than Toby that has stepped out into the Human environment. I know how I see Humans now. I don’t like saying it, but you’re a mystery to me. You’re a mystery to all of us.”

   Clarissa looked down to my claws thoughtfully. “I guess you’ve never been anywhere outside of the park, other than my house.”

   “Yes. I love how you want to show me things, Clarissa. All the Human gadgets and games are so much fun! So much so that I try to do those things back in the park. I want to show it all to my friends, but they don’t understand what it means. Barbara… You know Barbara, right?”

   “Yeah, that old lady who visits sometimes and teaches Human culture to you guys.”

   “Yes, she comes in a few times each year to teach our people about Humans, and it all seems so different. So different that it scares a lot of us. Our people love what she teaches, but they know that they can never experience those things themselves. And you teach _me_ about Human culture very well, but I feel that I need to experience it first hand to really understand.”

   She looked up at me again, a big smile on her face. “I know exactly what you mean, Taku. You know, there’s a big meeting going down in the state capitol in a couple weeks. Toby’s going to be there, and she asked me to join her. I’ll ask if you could come along, too.”

   “Really?” I gasped. “Thank you. I would love to go.”

   She grinned, her perfect white teeth glimmering. “No problem, I’m sure she’d be fine with it.”

   I lowered my head, feeling doubtful. “I’m not so sure.”

   “Leave it to me.” She assured. “And before then, I’ll get you a big book on Human history. Maybe then we won’t be so much of a mystery. More of a nightmare.”

   I laughed. “I won’t get nightmares.”

   Clarissa rolled her eyes, and continued to groom my claws. “If you’re going to come along, though, you’ll need to look your best. You’ll have to trust me, okay? Filed claws are only the beginning.”

   I gulped, dreading the makeover she was promising, though the idea of a new book to read on Human history and the chance to attend a big Human meet was a very attractive one. While she occupied her time “improving my image”, I genuinely began to ponder over the essay. Our talk of perception opened new doors, and new concepts arrived as if from nowhere. It took me a few minutes to come up with a solid theory, and its conclusion was not a positive one, but when it finally did arrive, I instantly picked up the pad of paper again, and started writing.

   “I think I have it.” I murmured quietly as I scratched my pencil roughly against the pad.

   “Go on.” Clarissa said, inviting me to give more details, looking up while still expertly doing the final claw on my left hand.

   “I… It’s… not that pleasing, but it’s so obvious that I’m surprised I didn’t realise it earlier. You have helped a lot in giving me the answer.”

   “So go on then. What is it?”

   The smile I originally held had faded, and I looked over my words again to make certain that I knew the reason Toby had set the essay. “The documentary is about how Yellowstone works as an ecosystem. How each part of it, the plants, the animals, the mountains and the rivers act together to maintain a balance. Everything here has its own function in keeping that balance.”

   She gazed up at me, and commented, “How a freakin’ one-year-old can speak like you do is scary…”

   I ignored her and continued. “We do not feature in the documentary because we aren’t part of that ecosystem. We contribute nothing to the natural balance. We are just a commodity, a novelty. That is why we do not feature.”

   Clarissa appeared conflicted, like she didn’t want to agree. Unable to counter, though, she remained mournfully silent. I started taking down more notes, both proud of my conclusion but equally fearing what it could mean.

   I finished the notes that I needed to take, and dropped my pencil onto the pad. “I hope I’m wrong.”

   “Maybe you are.” Clarissa aided. “I don’t think you’re a novelty. Anybody who thinks you are is just wrong. You know that, right?”

   “Yes. I know.”

   The nail file was retreated from my last finger, and Clarissa rose daintily to her flat Human feet. “Finished. I think you and I should take a break. I’m so dying for some OJ, and you need to stop thinking before you start getting all deep and philosophical again. You speak far too much for a kid.”

   I joined her in rising to my feet, looming a clear foot above her. “Okay. I need some water, anyway.”

   Together we walked to the office door, craving escape from the hot room and getting some much-needed hydration. She opened up the door and allowed me through first, but I had one more burning question that I simply had to ask.

   “And, Clarissa?” I spoke.

   “Yeah?”

   “Could I please play Angry Birds on your phone again?”

   She smiled warmly. “Sure.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

I was excited by the prospect of going to a Human social event. The idea of riding Clarissa’s car for hours, being so many miles from home, meeting and conversing with faces so unfamiliar, was simply too much of a curiosity for me to turn down. Of course, there was an air of anxiety, and the niggling thought that I may not enjoy it as much as I hoped hung around my head like an irritating insect on a hot day, but I pushed it easily aside.

   Clarissa had kindly requested to Toby that I attend a Human meeting in the state capitol, an event taking place in just a couple of days. After a week (assumedly filling out an army of forms, as she always seemed to be doing), Toby finally gave me the answer I craved. Clearly, however, it wasn’t a straight-forward decision for her, and even when giving me a “yes”, she was undoubtedly ambivalent on the proposal. She and Clarissa had a few private talks in that space of time, and though I never enjoyed being excluded, I knew well enough that perhaps there were some discussions that did not warrant me pushing my snout into.

   As expected, Clarissa made a great fuss about my appearance, especially after she found out that I was going. Thankfully, she managed to restrain herself enough to only do it when we were sat on our own in the offices, as if she knew that doing it in front of Toby (or anyone else, for that matter) would embarrass me hugely. She was filing down my nails, wiping down my blades with some kind of polish, even going so far as to berate me when she found a patch of dirt on my arm that I had neglected to remove. She never really gave me a clear answer to why she was being so panicky about it all, but, seeing as how she always kept herself in prime condition, even when it seemed unnecessary, I didn’t ponder it too hard and put it down as a habit.

   Aside from that, she kept her promise and delivered to me a rather bulky book on Human history that I then kept at my home tree, where it wouldn’t suffer from the Yellowstone elements. As of then, I had little chance to read it due to other activities. I had skimmed through, however, and read the first chapter on the origins of man. It was very interesting to me, as was the Human species in general, despite only knowing a select few at the time. My family was interested in the book as well, but only for the illustrations, which, I admit, were attention-grabbing.

   Since my invitation became official, I had been doing my best to show Toby how much I knew about the Humans, and though the book would have been useful, I felt that learning from those with experience would be infinitely more beneficial. Obviously, my lessons with Clarissa were helpful, as were a couple more meetings that I conducted with Cassie whenever she was around. I began to write another essay, one that Toby did not have to prompt me to do. My last essay went over well, despite its grim outlook, and Toby assured me that my hypothesis was the correct one.

   My new essay, an idea thought up wholly by myself, was a continuation of sorts to the previous one. It had dawned on me that our existence on this planet was dependent on Human acceptance of us, and that in itself was determined by their perceptions towards us. It would have been greatly interesting to me if I could ask Humans on a personal level how they felt on such a matter, strangers who lived far away from our home. Unfortunately, that was not possible, since I was confined to Yellowstone. At least, I felt like I was.

   Instead, I decided that maybe it was worth switching the question around: How did our people see the Humans? That was my essay, and one that I spent an awful lot of time researching for. It involved running from tree to tree, notebook in hand, and doing a short interview with anybody I could find. By the end, I must have had over two-hundred completed. I had to ask Clarissa for a new notebook on several occasions.

   I would like to say that the participants in my study were intrigued by the questions within, but they were universally more interested in me.

   The last day before my trip to the state capitol was nearly at an end. For my interviews, anyway. I was starting to find that interviewees were becoming less frequent, due mostly to the fact that it was the time of the year when new _kawatnoj_ were born. The landscape was covered in gravid _kalashi_ , bellies expanded to the point where even Meeg Hapul looked thin. As the days moved along, more and more tiny _kawatnoj_ were appearing. Needless to say, they weren’t the target for my interviews, so I steered clear of them.

   My last interview of the day came as I strolled near Toby’s home tree. I was on my way there, initially without meaning to carry out any more, but I couldn’t resist as I saw them nibbling on a few slabs of bark in plain view from their home tree. I hopped up into the neighbouring tree and made myself known.

   It was a pair, male and female, sat side-by-side in a large spruce. The male noticed my presence and stood up to greet me. With his invitation, I leapt forward and perched before him. We performed the greeting ritual – a series of blade movements that are useful in passing information without having to think too hard – and from it I discovered that the young couple were just recently mated. I kissed both of them, and together we sat down, with me opposite to them as they went back to their subtle embrace.

   “My name is Taku Kelmut.” I introduced, fiddling to remove my pen from an elastic strap on the side of my notepad.

   The male responded for both of them. “My name Stee Jugan. This _kalashi_ , Mip Hartep.”

   “Hello, Taku Kelmut.” Mip greeted.

   “It is nice to meet you both.” I said with a smile, having finally prepared for note-taking. However, it became quickly obvious that my actions and more eloquent way of speaking were piquing their curiosity. Already, I noticed them narrowing their eyes, cocking their heads, and generally piecing together a puzzle formed within their minds. Almost every stranger I met reacted the same way.

   I continued, telling them of what I intended to do. “If it’s okay, I would like to ask you both some questions. I’ll be writing down your answers in this notepad. Do I have your permission?”

   No one had ever refused me, and these two were no exception. They both nodded enthusiastically.

   I scribbled their names down onto the notepad, where I had already written down each question to ask. They were predetermined, so I cleared my throat and started to read.

   Well, I tried to, but just as I was about to read out the first syllable, Mip stopped me.

   “Taku Kelmut want bark? Good bark.” She said, reaching forward with a slab meant for me.

   I accepted the bark. “Thank you. Okay, my first question is: How long have you both been living here in Yellowstone?”

   It was a question almost always dependant on age, in the case of younger Hork-Bajir, and they both replied by saying how many winters had passed since they were born. They were both three years old, and so I noted that down.

   Though we had gotten off to a relatively smooth start, I only managed to get through that first question before the pair felt curious enough to learn a little more about me. Instead of the vacant smiles they held when we first met, they were finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together, and now gazed at me knowingly.

   Mip was the first to say it. “Taku Kelmut is different.”

   “Yes. Taku is different.” Stee quickly agreed.

   It was by no means uncommon, and indeed the great majority I had visited had made that statement at one time or another. I smiled to the couple and nodded.

   “Like Toby Hamee. Like Dak Hamee.” Stee continued, his smile reappearing.

   “Toby Hamee save Hork-Bajir.” Mip stated almost religiously. “Taku Kelmut save Hork-Bajir, too?”

   Stee blinked and turned to her. “Save from what?”

   Mip tried to come up with an answer, but she shrugged when nothing came.

   I laughed weakly, forcibly, and pushed onward. “Okay. My second question is: Have y-”

   “Taku Kelmut take Hork-Bajir home.” Stee abruptly interrupted. Apparently, my questions were no longer a priority, and the couple had made it into a game to guess how my _differentness_ was relevant, as if I existed to fulfil a certain purpose.

   Mip smiled. “Yes. Take back to home. Mip want to see home.”

   “Stee want to see home, too. Father-father say home good. Home is big. Bark is good.”

   “Please,” I sighed, putting a halt it. “I don’t think that’s something I could do.”

   Stee and Mip hesitated, and suddenly drooped, though they still clung firmly together, their visions having pulled them even closer than they were before. They looked to me apologetically, and I was finally able to proceed with my questions.

   “Have you ever been around Humans?” I asked of them.

   Stee perked up. “Stee see Humans. See… three moons ago.”

   Mip, however, wasn’t convinced, made obvious by the expression of confusion, then amusement on her face. “See Human two moons ago. Human with small magic cave.”

   “Oh,” Stee chuckled. “Yes. Two moons ago. Human in small magic cave.”

   I was baffled. “Small magic cave? What is that?”

   He paused to consider, and seemingly struggled to come up with an adequate description that didn’t simply repeated the words he had already used. In the end, he turned to Mip again for the answer.

   “Cave not there. Then there. Then not there. Come with Human.” She described mystically. “Cave is blue, and made with shiny sticks.”

   With that illustration, the answer nimbly popped into my head. “Ah! A tent,” I concluded. “I have seen those before, as well.”

   “Human go in, then Human come out.” Stee added. “Stee think that where Human sleep.”

   Mip asked curiously, more to me than to him, “Do Humans sleep in tree? Not see Human in tree.”

   I shook my head. “I know some Humans, and I have seen where they sleep. They’re called beds.”

   Stee and Mip gawked at me, visibly thankful for the knowledge, and equally astounded.

   “How not sleep in tree?” Stee queried quietly to Mip. She shrugged.

   I decided to let them mull it over later, and continued, “Next question: Do you often see Humans?”

   I gave them ample time to absorb and ponder the question, and there was some quiet deliberation between them as they formulated an answer.  They eventually agreed on a response, and Stee voiced it.

   “See lot of Humans. Not after every moon, but some. Humans come in white monster with round feet, or come in magic cave.”

   “ _Fellana_ ,” I thanked, and again wrote down what I needed to. “Do you talk to them often?”

   They deliberated again. “Mip talk to one before.” She said tentatively.

   “Yes,” Stee agreed. “Stee talk to same Human.”

   “Okay…” I mumbled, noting down that they had very little interaction, assuming that that was implied. “I only have one question left, but it needs a little more detail. I need big answers.”

   They both nodded.

   “What are your opinions towards Humans?” I asked, pen at the ready.

   What I expected was a short wait for them to gather their opinions together. Or, that is what I expected of my interviewees when I started my project. However, like most others I had asked, their answers came almost instantaneously, and with firm conviction.

   Stee smiled. “Humans so good for Stee. For Mip.”

   “For Hork-Bajir.” She added.

   “Father-father say Earth is Human home. Humans let Hork-Bajir stay on home after war. Then Humans give.”

   “Give blankets,” Mip clarified, pulling up a thick red blanket from her side on cue. “Blankets make Stee and Mip warm when moon comes.”

   “If no Humans,” Stee added, now a little more seriously. “No Stee. No Mip.”

   I couldn’t help but agree. “They have been very kind in giving us a place to live.”

   Stee grinned, and from up in a higher branch, he pulled a small, round object into view. He shook a thin end, and with its motion it produced a sound akin to the rain when it hit the ground and the leaves.

   “Give this, too.” He beamed, still shaking it. “Not know what it’s for, but good for _kawatnoj_.”

   Again, I could do no less than agree wholeheartedly. The object was a maraca, something I had seen in a book before. They usually came in pairs. I let out a childish laugh as Stee shook it more.

   They continued to talk about the Humans for a while. Most of what they said was the result of Human kindness that came in the form of donation boxes that were dispersed on a weekly basis around the park. The items inside were a mix, consisting of essentials such as blankets and glow sticks, though sometimes items turned up that were more for entertainment purposes. (I had waited a while for an iPhone of my own, but as it turns out, electrical items could not be donated.) A lot of the stuff was donated by companies in the local area that over-produced a certain line of stock, but by far the majority was down to the generosity of individuals from all over the world. Everyone that I had interviewed over those few days said the same thing, and there was never a divergence from the over-arching opinion: The Humans were providers, generous hosts that cared deeply for us.

   There were no negative opinions that I found when I looked back over my notes. I didn’t know whether that was just the natural Hork-Bajir optimism and docility on display, or whether it was true. It could have been both, and that’s what I assumed at the time.

   I finished up my interview, politely refusing an offer to share dinner with them on account that every other interviewee had done the same, and that if I were to eat anymore I wouldn’t make it back home. I thanked them for their answers, and though I intended to make it home before sunset, I realised that Toby’s tree was about a few dozen other trees away, and so I decided to pay her a visit.

   Ascending her tree, I quickly discovered that she was not at home. There was a small clunk of outstretching branch about halfway up where she could always be found perched, flicking through yet another load of files, whispering silently to herself. She wasn’t there, and nor were any files. Nevertheless, I continued upwards. I hadn’t come so far to turn back.

   The tree wasn’t empty. It never was. Though Toby would always come across as sheltered and cold, she had been able to raise a family. I may never have seen her motherly side, but judging from her thriving offspring, it was something that clearly existed.

   I aimed straight for the main sleeping area of the tree, just beneath the canopy. Once I had pulled myself onto the makeshift platform, I was immediately greeted by Toby’s mother, Ket Halpak.  She was sat mid-yawn, against the trunk of the tree, but the inhale was instantly halted when she noticed me arrive.

   Meeting Ket was becoming a more and more regular occurrence since I began learning from Toby, and even now, for those last few months under Clarissa’s guidance, I would still see her whenever I entered Toby’s tree. I both loved to see her, but at the same time it was quite an awkward experience. She was an icon, not only for our people, but even among the Humans. One of the first Hork-Bajir to be freed on Earth, she, along with Jara Hamee - Toby’s father – was a symbol of liberation, of the end of oppression.

   She was the mother of our people on Earth. What made my visits awkward, however, was that precisely: She treated me as if she were my mother. It was strange, because I had seen her in the presence of other _kawatnoj_ my age, and it was only ever me that she displayed such maternal instincts over. It was as if I was her child.

   When I arrived, she clucked loudly and excitedly. “Taku Kelmut! Come to see Ket Halpak! Ket miss Taku.”

   I looked away, embarrassed. “Hello, Ket. Yes, I came back.”

   Upon steadying myself, I waddled towards and sat before her. She was now perched, half sitting and half standing, and already I noticed her eyes grooming me, a protective scan, presumably to check for any bump or scrape that she could attend to diligently in order to keep me around just a little bit longer.

   She found something, and with a distressed squeak she took both my hands in hers, unfolding my fingers to unveil my claws, blunted significantly.

   Ket gasped and shook her head. “What happen to Taku nails?!” She demanded.

   “Oh…” I stammered, not expecting such a reaction, even though I probably should have. “Clarissa did that. I said it was okay.”

   She pouted, but continued to fuss over them. “How Taku climb tree now?”

   “Well, I climbed _this_ one.” I replied with a nervous laugh.

   Ket huffed. “Why Clarissa make Taku nails bad? Clarissa not do to Toby nails.”

   “She said that I should look my best for tomorrow. I’m going to the state capitol with Toby, and she told me that sharp nails aren’t good for doing handshakes.” I explained.

   The excuse didn’t match Ket’s expectations, and she grunted disapprovingly. “Taku need sharp nails,” She instructed. “Humans not climb trees like Hork-Bajir.”

   It came to me that second, that even though my project involved interviewing strangers, I was in the presence of somebody who knew Humans pretty well, maybe just as much as I did. Ket was saved by Humans, according to the stories I had been told, and though she never talked about the experiences (at least not to me), she often displayed more knowledge on them than most other people I knew. I picked up my notepad that I had left to the side, and that caught her attention.

   She smiled as she gazed at it. “Taku make talking lines?” She asked.

   “Yes,” I replied. “I’m doing an essay. I’ve been asking people questions, mostly. About Humans.”

   “Humans…” She mumbled with no particular emotional leaning. “Why?”

   “Well, Toby asked me to do an essay about how Humans saw Hork-Bajir. Now, I want to know how _we_ see _them_.”

   Ket processed what I said, and then nodded. “Taku ask Ket?”

   “Please,” I said. “I wasn’t going to ask people that I knew, but I imagine that you have known a few Humans.”

   She placed a finger ponderously against her snout and closed her eyes. Upon reopening them, she admitted, “Ket Halpak not know many Humans. Only know some.”

   I sat back against the trunk of the tree and began to take my notes, blinking back up to her as she paused. “Weren’t you saved by Humans?” I asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

   Ket smiled lightly. “Human _kawatnoj_ help Ket Halpak and Jara Hamee be free from Yeerks. Give home. Say nice things to Ket Halpak when Jara Hamee go to Mother Sky.”

   I nodded. “I have heard a lot about them, but only in passing. I don’t know anything more but for their effect. What did they do?”

   “Human _kawatnoj_ changers,” Ket explained. “Scary. Turn into monsters. Earth monsters.”

   This was a different account to those I had heard previously. “So… they’re not Humans? They’re monsters?”

   “No. Humans are Humans.” Ket stated matter-of-factly.

   “But they change into monsters?”

   “Yes.”

   “Do all Humans change into monsters?”

   She considered this, and then replied, “No.”

   “… Okay, so the Humans who could change into monsters rescued you from the Yeerks…” I noted, writing a large encompassing question mark onto the paper.

   Ket grinned happily. “Yes. That is true.”

   “Maybe someday,” I said. “I could meet these Humans. That is, if they’re still around. They sound so interesting, and I’d like to learn more about what they did.”

   To my surprise, Ket started laughing. She started to clarify, “Taku already-”

   She paused, and I noticed her glancing over my shoulder. Her quick ascend from her sitting position and bark of joy told me that somebody had arrived. I turned to look around the trunk, only to see Toby, returned and pulling herself onto the platform.

   She didn’t look happy at all.

   “Ket so happy Toby home,” Ket greeted, moving in for an embrace. “Where Toby go?”

   Toby did nothing but grunt with disinterest. She avoided the greeting and even eye contact. Her posture was shaky, aggravated, and her blades were flared, a sign that she wasn’t interested in contact with anyone. She stormed right past me, Ket following in her wake, and slammed a wrist blade directly into the trunk of the tree. It was an action borne of anger.

   “Hello, Taku.” She huffed robotically, sensing my presence without having looked at me once.

   I struggled to determine whether she would accept a response, so in bafflement I gazed up at her, almost plastered to my sitting position against the trunk.

   “I hope you are ready for travelling.” She spoke. It was utterly forced, a pleasantry that she plainly didn’t want to be troubled with. I shrunk further into my sitting position.

   “Toby Hamee sit down,” Ket suggested, troubled by her daughters barely-restrained anger. “Sit down good. Ket make Toby-”

   “I don’t need any food, Mother,” Toby snapped, eyes still averted. “Nor do I need water, or blankets!”

   Finally, she made eye contact with me. Now though, I didn’t want it, her stare in itself an onslaught. She kept her tone raised, and asked, “Why are you here, Taku?”

   My initial response came out as a pathetic squeak. Thankfully, I was able to gather my composure, and lifted up the notepad. “I’m doing another essay, and I came here to see if you were home.”

   I don’t quite know how, but Toby began to restrain herself a little more convincingly. She slumped back into a more relaxed (albeit still shaking) posture, and exhaled profusely. With a calmer voice, she replied. “Another essay… Did I set another one?”

   “No,” I said. “I thought I would start my own. Would you like to see?”

   Toby nodded. Ket was still by her side, now shaking herself and with an expression on her face of uncertainty. I handed my notepad to Toby, and she examined it.

   She handed it back down and turned away. With a completely disinterested voice, she said, “Good.”

   I didn’t know how to respond. Instead, I removed myself from my sitting position, holding the notepad to my side. I wanted to defend my essay, and I was so aggrieved by her utter disregard for it.

   “I thought to write about our people’s opinions towards Humans,” I told her, even though her back was turned to me. “And how-”

   “It doesn’t matter.”

   Her voice was low, mumbled. I tried to further explain it.

   She responded more aggressively this time. “It doesn’t matter, Taku! Don’t you ever listen?!”

   I decided to stay quiet from then on. Instead, I backed away and let Ket take over, though she had little more luck than I had. I had never seen Toby so angered, so troubled, and that in itself troubled me. Ket tried to find out what was wrong, but to no avail. Eventually, Toby wore herself down, and after a few incoherent barks of annoyance at her sobbing mother, she pulled herself onto a sturdy branch off to the side, clung herself around it, and tried to sleep.

   That night, I decided not to head home. Instead, I stayed in Toby’s tree with her family. This was partly due to the time of day, because I would not have made it home before sunset. It was also because I wanted to make sure that Toby was okay. Her unexpected rage that evening was soon less of a fright and more of a curiosity. I had never seen anything like it before, but Ket told me later that night, when Toby finally fell into sleep, that it was an all too regular occurrence. Perhaps that is what troubled me most of all.

   She apologised the next morning, but complained of a lack of sleep. I was reassured to see her back to her normal cold-but-stable self, but I didn’t dare ask what could have caused her such distress. Nor did anybody else. She accepted Ket’s motherly comfort, and even took the time to read through my notes before, once again, she decided that she had more work to do elsewhere. She left us, and I didn’t see her again until we were finally on our way to the state capitol.

   I was finally going to enter the Human world, and I could not have been more frightened.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

   We travelled to a place called Cheyenne, the state capitol of Wyoming. Little did I know of the distance involved, and little did I know of how we would get there. I had so gotten used to riding in cars that I almost forget that Humans have various modes of transport. In order to get to our destination, we had to take something called a private plane. If I thought that driving was scary, I was in for a huge shock when it came to flying in a huge chunk of metal. When we were being escorted up the narrow steps into the strange, tubular contraption, I had no idea that it would actually leave the ground, and gain such an altitude that the ground became essentially invisible. By the time we were off the ground, I was strapped in, somewhere near the back of the plane a few yards from any other passenger, and so I could do nothing but stress. Clarissa and Toby made sure to keep a few feet away from me during take-off, and as I struggled to cope with the terrifying concept of what we were doing, I realised why.

   Like the cars though, I quickly grew accustomed, and I stopped yanking at the tight belt that locked me down. I found enough time to explore my surroundings, especially when Clarissa felt it was safe enough to remove the seatbelt. The plane rocked slowly from side-to-side, which, even for an arboreal creature such as myself, was a little debilitating. The vehicle itself was small, just able to comfortably accommodate four or five people, and hence there was very little to do. Since Toby was in a world of her own, gazing blankly from a small window and seemingly unwilling to hold a conversation, I sat beside Clarissa for most of the long journey, watching as she padded herself with all sorts of makeup and accessories. She was more than happy to bat away my boredom between applying different lipsticks.

   We arrived in Cheyenne with not much time to spare. Clarissa had arranged transport that would pick us up as soon as we left the plane, a long black car with tinted windows and a very formal, if insincere chauffeur. Toby and I squeezed (literally) into the back seats, doing our very best not to scratch at the cosy interior, while Clarissa took her place beside the driver. He knew exactly where to go, and we were soon on our way into the heart of Cheyenne.

   “Toby?” I prodded, halfway through the journey as we drove through city streets. She was leant up against the window, blank as she had been all day.

   “Yes?”

   I shuffled over slightly, trying to draw her gaze, and feeling distinctly awkward when I couldn’t. “Why are we coming here, exactly?”

   She remained in her slouched position, and responded bluntly. “The mid-terms are coming up, and I must speak with the candidates.”

   “Oh…” I huffed. “Do I have to do anything?”

   She sighed. “No. You are merely observing.”

   I slumped in my seat, and played with the tip of my tail nervously. “Will I speak with the candidates, too?”

   “That is up to Clarissa.” Toby informed.

   Now alerted, but still applying makeup all over her face with some dainty brush, Clarissa turned in her seat and looked back at us. “Huh?”

   Toby sat up. “I was telling Taku how he will be under your capable supervision. I want this event to go as smoothly as possible, and with little consequence. Taku is still a _kawatnoj_ , and shouldn’t be left alone.”

   Clarissa grimaced and shook her head disapprovingly. “You need to chill out, Toby. Geez, what’s up with you today?”

   “Nothing.” Toby grunted, resuming her position against the car door.

   I wasn’t in the best mood to start with, and Toby’s reluctance was only making things worse. Thankfully, Clarissa could see that I was troubled, and she smiled over to me, though not so much as to disturb her thick layers of makeup.

   “Don’t worry about Toby,” She said. “We’re gonna have some fun tonight. You’ve just got to remember a few rules.”

   I smiled back at her. “What rules?”

   She turned a little more in her seat so that she didn’t have to crane her neck. “Okay, first: you do whatever Toby and I tell you.”

   I nodded.

   “Second: don’t move out of the clear zone.”

   “What’s the clear zone?”

   Clarissa unblocked her throat. “Well, when Toby first started going to these things, she always needed her own space. That’s the clear zone. Nobody can enter the clear zone without our permission.”

   “Can we move out of the clear zone?” I asked.

   “We shouldn’t,” Toby replied, joining in with the conversation. “The clear zone is there to ensure that nobody gets injured. In a room full of Humans, it wouldn’t be wise for us to be moving around between them. Humans are not as balanced or deliberate as we are.”

    “Pretty much.” Clarissa nodded. “And rule number three:  these are really stuck-up boring people. Mostly, like, politicians and rich people, so you need to be at least a little bit dignified.”

   I chuckled lightly. “I am very dignified.”

   She rolled her eyes, and in the corner of mine I even noticed that Toby was grinning for the first time since the journey began.

   “Yeah, right,” Clarissa mocked. “I’ve seen your table manners. You Hork-Bajir are lucky that they let you in these places without clothes. A little advice: don’t go bending over if you drop any food.”

   “I won’t.” I agreed, following with an unrestrained giggle that I hid beneath my hands.

   Clarissa turned to face out of the windshield once more, only to continue applying her mountains of makeup. “Just stick with me, okay? It’ll be fine.”

   It took a little longer than expected to arrive at our destination. By then, the sun had begun to set, and my body was therefore attempting to lull into a sleep. I fought it by watching the Human world pass by outside of the car windows, and it was a menagerie of lights and sounds that was like nothing I had seen before, not even in Riverton. There were Humans everywhere, and though I knew it was difficult for them to see us through the tinted windows, I could see them so very clearly. I found it beyond fascinating how varying their clothes were. Individuals stood out much more distinctively that way, and I took great pleasure in seeing all the different types that wandered the shadowy streets.

   Soon, the Human presence faded, and I got the sense that we were nearly there. The car turned down a few small roads that led up to one of the larger buildings we had passed, taller than any tree I had ever seen in Yellowstone, and that glowed like a white flame from the ground, alive and full of activity.

   The car stopped, and when the driver opened up the door, I could hear the distant noise of a crowd, its pitch high and confusing, clearly marking it as Human. When he came around to open up my door, and I stepped out onto cold concrete, I wondered where the mysterious crowd was. We were stood in a tiny, empty car park.

   “Where is everybody?” I asked no one in particular, still gawking up at the huge Human building.

   “Either inside, or at the main entrance,” Clarissa clarified. “We always have to go through a less crowded entrance.”

   “In much the same way that we are meant to sit in the less crowded rooms.” Toby added with obvious irritation.

   I felt Clarissa gently tug at my arm, just below my wrist blade. Our escort and Toby were already making their way toward to building. With great anticipation, I took Clarissa’s invitation and bounded after them, catching up as they came to a visibly thick pair of doors that the escort opened up with use of a metal keypad at the side.

   The building interior was initially rather bland, grey and vacant of much other than the single file lines of dim white lights. The air was cool and unwelcoming, making breathing quite an unpleasant experience. However, as we moved onwards, deeper into the building and up to the next floor, I could see the walls around us liven, the air clear, and though the lights never grew brighter, their dimness did nothing but add to the mysterious, almost artistic sheen that surrounded us. On the final stretch, when the sound of Human crowds again became audible, we walked along a strange purple corridor, illuminated profoundly from strips of light that lined the walls. There sat picture frames, paintings and sculptures. I was overwhelmed, amazed, and I couldn’t hide either as I bounced along the corridor, clear ahead of the other three, taking in as much of it as I could.

   At the end of the corridor was a large pair of wooden doors, and behind that came the noise of the crowd of Humans. I hung back to allow our escort to open them, and when he did, my chirpy optimism instantly morphed to anxiety. The room was huge, the ceiling towering metres above us, and the far wall like an insignificantly thin line off in the distance. Between, Humans stood in their droves, chattering, eating, drinking amongst the bright lighting from sparkling chandeliers. Ahead of us was an empty space, separated from the crowds by metal poles joined with thick red ropes. It was no more than ten feet ahead of us, and perhaps fifteen feet on either side. It was the clear zone, and the presence of a table mounting a bowl of bark chunks and several bottles of water affirmed it.

   “This is it?” I asked, turning first to Toby and having to speak louder over the heightened volume of our new surroundings.

   She nodded and placed her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “You should get comfortable.”

   I gulped, and when I faced the Human crowd again, I noticed that a large number of heads had turned. They stared, and I did my best not to stare back. Toby’s hand left my shoulder with a gentle squeeze, and she moved forward to greet a small number of Humans who had already made their way over to the makeshift boundary.

   There was a stool, deliberately tall and wide to accommodate a Hork-Bajir backside. I gratefully took it and stared down at the bowl of bark that had been left. The bark chunks were perfectly square, cubic in shape. I pulled one up and licked it. It wasn’t all that bad, so I gulped it down and re-read my memory for the purpose of my being here. I couldn’t quite remember.

   “You okay?” I heard Clarissa question. She was leant against the wall beside me, smiling widely.

   “Yes,” I responded. “I just… didn’t expect it to be this big.”

   She laughed. “This is nothing. Come on, you should introduce yourself to some people. It’s easy after the first.” On that, she took my hand, and I obediently picked myself from the stool to again stare out over the crowd. Being a clear foot taller than most of the Humans in the room, it looked like a sea of heads, multi-coloured from the variety of hair cast out before me. Many were still staring, but few, if any, were interested in approaching.

   I stared mournfully at Clarissa. “I don’t think they like me.”

   “They haven’t even met you yet,” She explained. “And they’re probably wondering why there are two of you. They’re used to just seeing Toby, I guess.”

   Despite my bleak pessimism, a Human did eventually make his way over. He came from a table at the far side of the long room, and he wore a deep grey suit and red tie, a glass of what appeared to be chilled water in one hand. His hair was a light brown and excessively neat. His eyes locked onto mine as he neared, and I plucked up the courage to meet him over the rope barrier.

   Before he stopped walking, the Human male granted me a grin, and he said, “Toby! Long time, no see.”

   This happened before I could offer a handshake, and I froze in place, confounded. “Oh, no,” I stuttered. “Toby is over there.” I pointed off to the other side of the clear zone, where Toby was partially hidden by the small crowd of Humans she had gathered.

   “Ah.” The Human male replied bluntly.

   “My name is Taku Kelmut,” I resumed, lifting a hand to shake, as Clarissa had always taught me. Handshaking was very important, according to her. “And what is-”

   The male Human turned, and then he left in Toby’s direction, leaving my hand to grow cold as I held it to nobody over the barrier. I was completely baffled. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed me at all, or he had been called away to some emergency…

   I dropped my hand and turned to Clarissa for guidance. In the meantime, she had moved just outside of the clear zone and was now chatting with somebody who may as well have been a clone: Coated in make-up and also wearing a rather tight red dress. Thankfully, she noticed my plight, excused herself and came back to me.

   My mouth was still agape when she asked, “What’s wrong?”

   “I… There was a Human, and he came up to me. He thought I was Toby, and I told him that I _wasn’t_ Toby.”

   “And…?”

   “He walked away while I was talking to him. I don’t know why.”

   Clarissa exhaled heavily, but looked up to me with a genuine expression of knowing. “He’s just an asshole. Ignore him.”

   I blinked. “A what?”

   “You know. An asshole,” She insisted. “Not a very nice person. What’s annoying is that our species seems to specialise in them.”

   I was still pretty confused. “Is that why he walked away when I was talking to him?”

   “Yeah. And there’s a few of them, so don’t feel bad, okay?”

   I grunted, still not wholly satisfied, but knowing that it would be something to research later. “You Humans have such strange ways of describing each other.” I commented.

   Clarissa nodded acceptingly, and then she guided my attention to the couple that she had been conversing with. “They’re nice people. Come say hello.”

   She took my hand and dragged me over. It was not that I didn’t want to meet her fellow Humans, but after the previous experiment, my hopes were less than optimistic. The pair of Humans that I was to be introduced to consisted of a male and a female. As I had already found, the female held a similar appearance to Clarissa, but perhaps a little taller and with paler skin. The male, on the other hand, was rather stumpy, and much of his hair was missing at the top of his head. Adding to my already mountainous level of anxiety, the pair appeared a little intimidated by my approach, though they clearly tried to hide it out of politeness.

   “Taku,” Clarissa tuned as we came together. “This is Mr and Mrs Harrison. Mr and Mrs Harrison, this is Taku. Or Mr Kelmut, I guess.”

   I felt her tug secretly at my arm, and I shook my worries from my head when I remembered to shake hands. This time, the two Humans, Mr and Mrs Harrison, seemed much more open to my presence, and they both shook my hand.

   Well, they shook my finger.

   “Hello,” I greeted with as much formality as I could muster. “My name is Taku Kelmut.”

   The male, who I noticed had a rather enlarged gut, much like the gravid _kalashi_ back in Yellowstone, spoke for them. “Hello to you, Taku Kelmut. You can call me Phillip. This is my wife, Debra.”

   “Hi.” Debra acknowledged.

   Already, I found myself struggling to find what to say, which I put down simply to my lack of familiarity to such a location and situation. Clarissa had always told me to show interest in those who I was talking to, and though it seemed like good advice, it was not something I had had much practise doing. Our own people’s conversations are very limited, and I only knew a few Humans whose purpose, to varying degrees, involved being around me and our people. I looked to Clarissa for guidance once again, and she returned a most subtle of nods to give me the go-ahead.

   I looked to the male’s stomach again, and uttered, “I didn’t know male Humans gave birth. You must be very happy. When is it due?”

   So suddenly, the smiles on all of their faces dropped, and eyes were averted. I noticed Clarissa closing her eyes and biting her lips.

   I twiddled my fingers, already feeling like I’d said something wrong. “I hope you don’t mind my asking.”

   Phillip, or Mr Harrison, held an enclosed hand to his mouth and loudly cleared his throat. “We, uh, should be going. I need to speak with Dr Carrick, and I believe he’s over there somewhere.” He said without any hint of direction. Then, he and his befuddled female partner exchanged a farewell nod to Clarissa. They only stared at me briefly, and then they left.

   My claws found their way to my mouth, and I chewed on the blunted nails, now safe in the knowledge that what I had said was not typical Human etiquette.

   Clarissa turned to me and sighed. “Great job, Taku.”

   “I’m sorry,” I whined. “Did I say something wrong?”

   She held her head back in a physical manifestation of frustration. “Duh! Guys don’t get pregnant!”

   “But why was… his…”

   “Mr Harrison has weight issues.” Clarissa groaned. “He’s just fat.”

   I dipped my head down and repeated my apology. Clarissa was quick to relent, but she was understandably annoyed by my conduct.

   “Next time,” She told me. “Think about what you say before it comes out of your beak.”

   “I will.” I replied after downing a bottle of water, my mouth parched.

   “I think that next time, _I’ll_ do the talking.” She considered, staring at her own reflection in a tiny circular mirror. “You stand there and look pretty.”

   “Look pretty…” I repeated, nodding. That didn’t seem so bad. Mother had always told me how handsome I was, after all.

   We planned to wait for more people to come to me, rather than the other way around. While Clarissa fussed over her appearance, I stood beside the barrier, occasionally munching on some of the bark cubes and watching as Toby made her rounds on the other end of the clear zone. From what I could see, her expression had not shifted from the bland, slightly self-doubting one that she bore earlier. She was doing things by herself, and I refused to get in her way.

   A speech was given on a raised platform to our far left, though its message evaded me. By now the room had reached seating capacity, and indeed most of the Humans had sat themselves around their respective tables, idly chatting away with one another. I was beginning to feel that it was a pointless exercise for me, until a group of three Humans, who I noticed had been staring long before, picked up the courage to stroll over. Clarissa instantly caught on, and she came to my side in preparation.

   The three male Humans came in a variety of suits, but only really varying in colour. They were all relatively old, hair grey and faces covered in wrinkles, something that happens to Humans when they reach a certain age. One of them, with a curious smile across his face and narrow eyes, was saying something about his last visit to Yellowstone. I braced myself for whatever was to come.

   They reached the barrier, and the three of them, still in midst of conversation but bringing it to an end, blinked up at me, faces lit up by the light from the closest chandelier.

   “Hi!” Clarissa greeted in the usual drawn-out fashion, accompanying it with a subtle curtsy and flicker of the eyelashes.

   “Hello, ma’am,” One of the males said. He shook her hand, as did the other two. “Jack Robertson, CEO of Zatic Corporations.”

   I droned out, admittedly, as they went through the usual introductions. I did find, however, that the three men were important and influential figures in the state of Wyoming. Having promised Clarissa that I would leave the talking to her, I remained silent, at least until I was addressed directly.

   “My companions and I couldn’t help but notice your friend, here,” Jack Robertson mentioned, looking me over. Then, directly at me, he asked, “What is _your_ name?”

   “My name is Taku Kelmut.” I replied. I left it at that, frightened of making yet another error.

   Clarissa chuckled awkwardly. “This is his first time. He’s a little nervous.”

   “Yes,” I admitted. “I’m a little nervous.”

   Jack laughed, and to my relief, he offered a hand to shake, which I took. “There’s no need to be nervous around here, my alien friend. Tell me, what brings you?”

   I wanted to answer for myself, but in the knowledge of my previous mistake, I looked to Clarissa to explain, and she was happy to do so in her typical brand of flair.

   “Taku wants to learn more about Humans. He’s like Toby, you know. He’s a _seer_.”

   Suddenly, the mood changed. Originally semi-interested in my presence and exchanging light jokes that were a little beyond my grasp, their smiles dropped, and their faces displayed great intrigue. I was made to feel embarrassed as they gaped up at me.

   “A _seer_?” One of the males contemplated. “What is your name again? I didn’t quite catch it.”

   “My name is Taku Kelmut.” I repeated.

   “Taku Kelmut.” Jack murmured. “I’ve haven’t heard of you before. I thought Toby was the only _seer_.”

   Clarissa stepped in. “Taku hasn’t really been outside of Yellowstone yet. This is his first time on the circuit.”

   Jack’s face contorted to a grin once again. “Well, well, you must have much to learn, young Taku.”

   “How old are you, Taku?” The third Human asked.

   Again, Clarissa took the helm. “He’s just over a year old.”

   By this point I was feeling my confidence return. I wanted to be the one to speak. I smiled convincingly to Clarissa, and she happily stood aside to allow me control.

   The rest of the night went smoothly, although I didn’t realise how much things would escalate. Soon after Clarissa broke the news of another _seer_ , the crowds quickly began to take notice of me. They seemed nice for the most part, and even the one described as an _asshole_ decided he wanted to talk to me after all. There were so many questions, so many words of wisdom, and it was embarrassing at first, but once I found the flow I let it take me naturally. I met so many Humans, and they all seemed so generous and kind and interested in what I had to say. It would have been like being back in Yellowstone, if it weren’t for lack of sincerity that doused everything that they said.

   I didn’t know whether to accept their kindness as genuine, or whether I should have been wary. After all, before they knew who I was, they saw me as no more interesting than a strange painting that could only be viewed from afar. However, insincerity was not something that I was used to encountering, and I could have just been paranoid.

   Coming to the end of the night, I began to feel overwhelmed and fatigued. Clarissa read the signs and came to my rescue, ably dispersing the crowds and handing me another bottle of water. I was dizzy from the strange sensation that always came from doing something new and unusual, and I just wanted some time to rest and think everything over.

   “You did great!” Clarissa enthused as I retreated further into the clear zone.

   “Thank you, Clarissa,” I responded. “I’m tired now. Could I rest? Maybe get some sleep?”

   She smiled warmly. “Sure. Go sit in the corridor for now. I’ll sort things out with Toby, and then we’ll call it a night.”

   “Thank you.”

   So I retreated back into the purple hallway, and as soon as I felt the presence of one of the walls against my back, I collapsed against it, slowly sliding downwards until I was sat upright on the ground. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. I felt like I could sleep for days, if it weren’t for the idea that hundreds of noisy Humans were on the opposite side of the doors that sat just yards away.

   Although, I must have fallen asleep somehow, because the next time I opened my eyes, I saw the familiar sight of Toby looking down at me.

   “Taku?” She breathed. “Perhaps this is not the best place for a nap.”

   I opened up my drowsy eyes fully, and then pulled myself back up to a standing position. “I’m tired…” I grumbled.

   “Yes, and I’m not surprised. It’s been a long day,” She sympathised. “I hope you found it a useful experience.”

   I grinned as much as my drooping face would let me. “It was very useful. Though, I’m still unsure about some things.”

   “Like what?”

   I shrugged. “Nobody wanted to talk to me until Clarissa told them who I was.”

   Toby’s subtle smiled dropped to a distinct look of concern. “She told them that you are a _seer_ , like me?”

   “Yes. The Humans wanted to talk to me a lot after that.”

   She gave a lengthy exhale, and turned away so that she was gazing down at the softly-illuminated purple floor. “I was hoping she would hold onto that for now. Of course, you know what happens next, don’t you.”

   I shook my head and anticipated the answer that I apparently should have known. “No.”

   “The Humans know you now. Before tonight, your name has only been known to a few who handle the upkeep of the park. I implored them to keep it to themselves, but I knew that tonight would be the night that your name would become known. I expect the media to arrive in Yellowstone tomorrow. It will be big news for the Humans.”

   I was too sleepy to fully express the anxiety that clawed its way back into my system, and it only resulted in a pitiful squeak. Nevertheless, it caught Toby’s attention, and she turned back to me, a nurturing look in her eyes. A motherly, protective stare that I hadn’t noticed previously.

   “I am sorry for how I have acted over these last few days,” She said regretfully. “I feared for your security, and I knew that any anxiety you went through from then on would be my fault. I blame myself. Perhaps, that is something I do too often, but now you truly are my responsibility.”

   My response, naturally occurring, was a childish laugh. “Don’t feel sorry, Toby. I have enjoyed tonight. And the _media_ sounds fun!”

   Toby smiled, and then she bent her head forward, connecting our head blades in a kiss.

   “You’re still such a child, Taku.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

   The rapidly flowing air from the rotating fan was cool on my tongue. I shuffled my body around to follow it as it turned, in love with the feeling it gave me. I had never felt so much joy from such a simple piece of machinery, a fan that rotated at such a speed that it thrust cold air ahead of it, a welcomed sensation in the hot, stuffy room. Toby’s office was perhaps too well insulated.

   It began to swivel in the opposite direction, and I followed, pulling myself back over from the desk that I was now leaning on.

   When I saw Clarissa at the door as the fan finished rotating, I flung back, removing myself from the undignified position and placing myself firmly back in my chair.

   “Hot?” Clarissa asked, strutting into the office and flicking a comb against the palm of her left hand.

   I hunched back into my seat behind the desk and stared meekly up at her. “Yes. I just wanted to get a little cooler.”

   “Why don’t you go sit outside?” She suggested, hoisting herself to sit on the edge of the desk and pulling the comb through the ends of her hair.

   I shrugged. “I would like to, but I’m working.”

   “Working?” She sniggered. “It looks more like you’re trying to make out with the fan.”

   “I am working!” I defended, holding up a pad of paper before her. “I’ve been working on my essay. I tried to show it to Toby the other day, but she… I’m going to keep working on it. I’ll use it as practise.”

   Clarissa smiled and gazed down at it past her comb, shifting one leg so that it crossed over the other in her tight blue jeans. “Looks boring. Aren’t you still reading that book I gave you? The Encylopedia?”

   I nodded and pulled away a couple pieces of paper to reveal the encyclopedia beneath. It was a large book, easily the thickest that I had read, but at the same time it was a pleasant and insightful read. There was a bookmark where I had read up to, and I pulled it open there. Page 204: The Fall of the Roman Empire. “I read some more this morning. I really like it.”

   “Well, that’s good,” Clarissa grinned. “I know that _I_ would never read it, so at least it’s being used.”

   “It’s quite frightening,” I admitted weakly, closing it again and replacing the papers that I was working on. “You Humans are…” I looked to her, hoping that she would find an answer for me.

   “Violent?”

   I slinked backwards in my chair, unwilling to offend. “A little. Though, I think things have changed a lot.”

   She laughed. “You could say so. We aren’t feeding each other to lions, so I suppose that’s progress.”

   “We are quite different,” I sighed. “Aren’t we?”

   “No kidding,” She replied with a sly laugh, pulling herself off from the desk. “I don’t know a single Human who actually _enjoys_ writing essays.”

   We exchanged a comfortable laugh, when the door to the office opened again, this time allowing Toby to step in, ducking her head blades under the door frame. She seemed more awake, more alert and approachable than she was in the state capitol, but we still felt the awkward need to cease our laughter and take on a respectful formality.

   She paused when she came a few steps into the room and looked between the two of us. When I noticed her more invigorated appearance, I smiled and got up from my seat. “Hello, Toby.”

   “Hello, Taku. Clarissa,” She said. “You’re still here, Taku? I thought you would have gone home by now.”

   “I wanted to do some more work,” I informed, tapping my finger to the pile of papers I had been building throughout the day. “I hope you don’t mind me using your office.”

   She smiled invitingly. “Of course not. You’re always welcome to work in here. You are still working on your study?”

   “I am. I thought maybe you could read it when you had some spare time.”

   “I will, when I can _find_ that spare time,” She looked to Clarissa, who was still messing with her hair. “Perhaps Clarissa could take a look at it.”

   “When I have spare time,” Clarissa countered. From her expression and her delivery, I knew that it was a sarcastic humour, something that I had still not entirely mastered. It was confirmed when she said to me, “I’ll skim over it in a minute. I just have to do my nails first.”

   Toby scoffed. “Of course,” Then, she turned to me again, her smile vanishing to be replaced again by the subtle urgent gaze that was her trademark. “Taku, they are here.”

   I blinked up at her, baffled. “They?”

   “I saw two broadcasting vans arriving as I entered the building. Word has gotten out of your appearance in the state capitol. I came to ask whether you wished to meet them. If not, I could send them away.” She said, her hands clasping together against her belly.

   I stood firmer, raising my neck and feeling a deep sense of curiousness swell within me. I barked a yes without hesitation. That thoughtless reaction prompted a sigh from Toby, and a sly giggle from Clarissa. Their response caused me to backtrack and assemble some rational thought, but my conclusive answer was no different. “Yes, please. They are outside now?”

   “They are. I haven’t had a chance to speak to them, but I know how they plan to operate. I will accompany you. Please don’t take offense, but on this occasion, I would prefer to speak on your behalf.”

   I pulled myself around the desk and stretched my aching legs and tail. “I don’t mind. I’ve always wanted to be on television. Maybe I will be, and maybe on my favourite shows!”

   “What kind of shows has Clarissa been letting you watch?” Toby asked, looking over to the hair-obsessed Human.

   “Comedy Central,” I said for her. “She says that it’s funny, but I don’t understand it most of the time.”

   Clarissa shrugged, now filing at her nails and sighing as she explained to Toby, “It’s either that, or let him watch cable news and give him nightmares. That, or the cooking channel.”

   “What’s wrong with the cooking channel?” I questioned, interest piqued.

   “Haven’t you ever wondered what Humans eat?” Clarissa pushed.

   I turned to face her directly. “You eat salad and bagels. Sometimes you have a burger and fries. You never let me try any.”

   Toby shot Clarissa a warning glare, but she continued. “You know why I don’t? Humans aren’t vegetarian.”

   Toby pulled me aside by my arm in the direction of the door, but not before shaking her head at Clarissa. “Now is not the time.” She pressed.

   Before I knew it, Toby had marched me from the office. I didn’t find much time to mull over what Clarissa meant, but now I was more than eager to find out. I almost forgot about the media presence when we descended the stairs, but when we entered into the ground floor, it hit me again, and I felt my nerves bubble up once more.

   Through the tinted blue windows of the complex, I saw them patrolling. Cameramen were emptying their equipment from bright shiny vans, their fellows surrounding and circling the main entrance like flying insects around a lamp. My eagerness took a sharp turn to be brutally replaced by nagging anxiety.

   Then it started to melt away. I couldn’t really explain it, though I guessed that it was partly down to my experience in the capitol. I was nervous then, too, but I eventually found that I had no reason to be. The early Humans I had witnessed in my encylopedia may have been monstrous in their bloodlust, but modern Humans came across much differently.

   I had no reason to fear, and as soon as the worry arrived, it had vanished.

   Toby guided me to the entrance, deciding to take the lead as she pushed through and out into the naked sun.  The moments afterward were manic, a wash of Humans pouring around us all dressed in suits and ties, followed by cameramen in generally more casual attire. They all seemed to talk at once, and I didn’t know who to look at or who to converse with. In the end, I shuffled closer to Toby and let her take over.  
  
   She took the reins with great ease, and with just a movement of her mouth apparatus she had quietened them. Nevertheless, I noticed their eyes drawing to me, despite Toby’s expert protection.

   “Governor Toby Hamee,” Started one of the reporters, a female with bright blonde hair and a deep blue tie. She had pushed forward, past the others, and shoved a large black microphone towards Toby’s snout. On the side, it had a large logo reading _CNN_. “There has been a rumour spreading that there is a new _seer_ in Yellowstone National Park. Is this true?”

   Toby stood firm, her eyes closely locked onto the reporter. Her hand moved, though, and it clasped to mine even as the rest of her remained solid and formal.

   “I can confirm that rumour,” She stated, neither with pride nor anxiety. “His name is Taku Kelmut.”

   Her hand tugged lightly, and I took the cue to step forward. I was at her side, and instantly I heard the frantic clicking of cameras. Everyone turned to me, and within a moment I was the spotlight in every piece of machinery and every pair of eyes around. The microphone that was previously in Toby’s face was now directed to mine.

   “So you are Taku Kelmut?” The reporter asked.

  “Yes,” I replied, gazing off into the camera behind the reporter. “My name is Taku Kelmut,”

   The reporter grinned, a wide white bearing of her teeth and a flicker of the eyes. “And you are a Hork-Bajir _seer_?”

   “Toby says that I am.” I gripped her hand tighter, still connected to her.

   The reporter turned back to Toby, accompanied by the cameraman. “Governor, people want to know if Taku is your son. Surely, your unique genes were passed on to Taku?”

   Toby suddenly looked distinctly angered, and a small growl of discontent escaped her throat. “Taku is not my son,” She bluntly informed. “His family lives north of this building. I provide him with guidance.”

   “So are you are guiding Taku to follow in your footsteps, so to speak.” The reporter offered.

   Personally, I saw no offense in what that particular reporter was saying, but Toby was clearly agitated. Her hand gripped tighter around mine, her tail stiffened, and she shuffled uncomfortably on her feet.

   “Taku’s future is his to decide,” She urged. “If he wishes to follow, then I shall lead, but that is entirely up to him.”

   It continued for a while. After the first interview, they decided to better organise the situation. Toby and I were placed behind a wall of microphones and cameras, and what was originally planned as a series of small interviews became one large interview. Photographs were taken, questions were asked, and every time I saw Toby wince and cringe at the activities that at the time seemed just so curious to me.

   I revelled in the spotlight. With every opportunity I cleaned up my blades, rubbed any dirt from my legs and corrected my posture. Where Toby answered questions with a blanket of privacy and blunt statements, I indulged in lengthy answers and in-depth (often irrelevant) anecdotes. More and more, just like in the state capitol, I found the attention of the Humans drifting from Toby to me. Soon, she became nothing more than an anchor that stopped me revealing perhaps a little too much detail. For example, she stopped me as I was about to tell the Humans about what happened when Father ate bark that had been pulled out from the river after it had been lost the week before.

   They said that it was going to go national, and they told me that a lot of it was live. It was on FOX, NBC, CNN, and countless other networks - all of the major cable news channels. It was only then when I felt some nerves bubble up again, but by then I was past introductions, and my momentum carried me through.

   Two hours later, things began to calm. The media vans were still arriving at the facility, but it was much less frequent. The main stations had gotten their share, but they gave me the direct impression that I would be seeing more of them in the near future. That is what they hoped, and, I admit, I hoped for that as well. In the end, once the interviews were mostly done, Toby excused herself with a wide yawn and wandered off in search of a tree, either to feed or to nap. Clarissa took over, and though she had been in similar interviews before (she had recorded them and shown them to me in an almost three-hour marathon soon after we met), she was equally excited by the opportunity. Her hand replaced Toby, though she complained loudly whenever I squeezed too tightly.

   “You were fantastic,” She told me when the last television camera was shut off. “I was a mess on my first TV appearance.”

   I looked down to her, and then took the opportunity to take a seat on a bench that sat before the facility’s grass patch. “Are you sure that I’m going to be on television?”

   “We keep telling you, yes. The whole nation will be watching.”

   “The whole of America…” I repeated wistfully, staring off at the crowd of withdrawing reporters. “I hope that they like me.”

   Clarissa took a seat beside me and leaned back, pulling out her pocket mirror again and doing some investigative work on her own facial features. “Why wouldn’t they?” Then, she groaned anxiously, pulling the mirror even closer. “They didn’t give me much time to prepare, though. If I’d have known that they would turn up, I would have made myself a little more presentable.”

   I uttered a laugh. “You always look presentable, Clarissa. You look just like those female Humans from the television. Better, even.”

   The mirror was pulled away, and she looked to me again, an eyebrow raised. “You know, for a kid, you have quite a way with words. Thanks, Taku.”

   “Did I look good?” I asked tentatively.

   She twisted her lips, an awkward expression. “I don’t think Humans would really, you know, notice much difference.”

   I retreated subtly in my seat and clutched at the tip of my tail with my right hand. “What do you mean, Clarissa?”

   Clarissa shrugged and turned her attention back to her handheld mirror. “Well, it’s different, you know? Humans have different hair, nails, lips. Clothes, I guess. We all look different.”

   “And we don’t?”

   The pocket mirror clamped shut, and Clarissa blurted an awkward laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I guess what I’m trying to say is…” She paused, mixing in one or two indecisive stutters. “It’s kinda difficult for us. _I_ don’t find it hard, obviously, but then I’ve spend, like, years hanging out with you guys.”

   I dipped my head and continued to play with the bladed tip of my tail. “I understand. You Humans all look so different. You are so different in other ways, too.”

   Clarissa nodded, and she took my hand again, now more for comfort than for reinforcement. “That’s not always a good thing.”

   My reaction to the situation was hard for me to decipher, but I knew that Clarissa was right, no matter how badly she may have delivered her ideas. Hork-Bajir were, as I would find, much more monotonous than Humans, both in appearance and personality. In many ways that was a good thing.

   Instinctually, comforted by Clarissa’s intent, I craned my neck and angled for a kiss. I realised my mistake when she backed away with a startle. I apologised and allowed her to perform a Human kiss on the side of my jaw instead.

   Feeling unusually philosophical after that, I searched for Toby’s company, hoping that perhaps she could shed some light on the struggle my mind was facing. Catching her scent, I found her perched up in a nearby pine, sleepily staring up at the swaying branches. She eagerly welcomed me as I approached, and I pulled myself up to slump beside her in the higher levels of the tree, lying back in a small pocket and flinging my tail up over a higher branch.

   “You were enjoying yourself,” Toby had gathered, moving to again become comfortable after my intrusion into her space. “Have they decided to leave you alone?”

   “They said that they didn’t need me anymore. I don’t think they liked that you left, too.”

   Toby scoffed, and pulled a loose piece of bark from the tree’s trunk, offering it over to me. “I wasn’t in the mood for it.”

   “I could tell.” I said, taking the bark and snapping it into smaller pieces that I could snack on.

   She smiled and took another slab for herself. “You handled it very well. Even better than I thought you would.”

   “It was fun!” I chirped. “I would like to do it again. They were very nice.”

   I noticed her cringe and gaze to the distance. The piece of bark destined for her mouth fell away, and her toes curled tightly against the branch on which she was sat. “You will do it again, I’m sure.”

   The disturbed sound of her words troubled me, and I could sense her worry. “You don’t like them,” I suggested. “Why not?”

   She shuffled in her seated position, raising and stiffening herself. “Did I ever tell you about the first time that I spoke to the American media?”

   I thought, and then shook my head. “No. Will you tell me?”

   With a clearing of throat, and a nibble at her bark, she began. “The first time I met the media was the day that the war ended. We successfully took control of the pool ship, but we had to wait for the arrival of experienced hands to guide us down to Earth. They landed us in a secluded area where we would be away from the public, but the Humans insisted that reporters be present so that they could add detail to their news stories. My platoon and I spent the time in the pool area, watching over the hosts while the Yeerks left their bodies, and while the Animorph and Andalite forces took control of communications.”

   “I have heard this story,” I said. “I have heard about the invasion of the Pool ship. I think you told me. You said that it went very well.”

   Toby nodded. “As smoothly as a battle can go, I suppose. What I _haven’t_ told you about is what happened when we landed. The Human military instructed us to vacate the ship, after which we would be checked for Yeerk presence. I tried to bring my platoon with the Animorph and Andalite forces, but the Human military demanded strict organisation. They sent in soldiers, wary of any trouble breaking out, and they sent the Human hosts from the ship first, demanding that those with injuries receive immediate medical attention. It took them two hours to evacuate the Human hosts and check them for Yeerks. Meanwhile, my people were restrained in the pool room. We had substantial injuries, not only to the members of my platoon, but to the freed hosts that were injured by ourselves or the Animorphs as we took control of the ship.”

   I frowned and clamped my fists around the nearest branch, disturbed by the scene I was envisioning. “How long were you in there?”

   “It was about three hours,” She recalled. “But that is understandable. Not at the time, of course. I was very angry at them, but I later realised that my emotions were what caused my anger. After all, it was a very difficult time. The Humans were wary of us, and with good reason.”

   “So what happened next?” I asked when she seemed to pause.

   I could tell that she was having some difficulty telling the story, and her face twisted with restrained anguish. “They led us out of the ship. At first they wanted to do Yeerk checks with us on board, worried that any Hork-Bajir controller would attempt to escape or cause some retaliatory damage. I demanded otherwise, because I knew that my people would not receive medical attention until they had left the ship. They denied permission at first, but the Animorphs, who were already demanding such influence on the military, helped me to convince them otherwise. I thought that it was over then. We left the ship, carrying the injured over our shoulders, but we were stopped again, stood at the mouth of the ship.”

   “By who?”

   “The Human officials. The Animorphs were quick to retreat, and they avoided speaking to the media. The Andalites thought themselves above it and spoke only to the military. With nobody around to make in-depth reports of what occurred, they came to me. I imagine that one of the Animorphs or an Andalite recommended me, because at the time we were nothing more than unknown threats to all but them and the military. They stopped my people, pulled me aside, and demanded that I inform them of what happened, and what our intentions were.”

   “Couldn’t you refuse?”

   “I tried,” She said mournfully. “I told them that I was not ready. I told them that I had just lost my Father and that I wished to be alone, if only to have some time to grieve. I told them that my people were injured and that they needed medical attention. But they were so determined for a story, and so intent on asking questions. By that time, the military had cleared us and made clear statements informing the public that we were of no immediate threat, but that didn’t matter. They made me perform live interviews declaring that we weren’t here to invade. They asked me what I ate, what my blades were for, where I would be going. They refused to allow my people medical attention until everything was answered, worried that one of my people would thrash out and cause harm. When they finally let me go, three of my people had died of their injuries.”

   “The media had more control over who received medical care than the military?” I asked incredulously, baffled by the notion.

   “Not quite, but before the ship had even landed, after the secret invasion had been revealed, the media began running stories about us. With only blurry images and eye-witness testimonies to work with, they formulated rumours that spread panic and fear among the Humans. As paranoia rose, the government made a decision that, before treatment is received, it must be made clear that a Hork-Bajir will be of no threat to any Human. The media took it upon themselves to decide when they felt safe enough, and only then were the military given the governmental permission to assist us.”

   I grunted, and swallowed the remaining bark in my mouth. “Why would they do such a thing?”

   “You will learn that they are after one thing: A story. If they can’t find a story, they will make one, with little regard for the consequence. They may seem kind to you now, but be wary that some may turn on you whenever they feel it is beneficial to their cause.”

   I twiddled my thumbs and felt a deep sense of shame for bringing it up so flippantly. “It seems that every time I think I’ve learned something, I find that I know nothing at all.”

   Toby chuckled. “You are not alone. They are still a mystery for me to this day.”

   “I have been reading a book that Clarissa gave to me,” I said. “It’s about Human history.”

   “That’s the same one that she gave to me. You will learn a lot of their history, and of their culture from that book, but you will still be better learning from experience. I will leave that to Clarissa, because I am likely to be busy over the next few weeks.”

   “Busy? Busy doing what?”

   She scratched at her belly and pulled some more bark from the tree. “I will be going to Washington, D.C. for a meeting of the House of Representatives. There are some issues that I wish to speak on, so I must be present.”

   “Could I come?”

   Toby didn’t look at all surprised, and the way she looked at me indicated that she already knew that I would ask. “Washington is a very long way from here. It will not be like Cheyenne. If you come with me, you will be there for several days, and that’s not including travel. You understand that you will not see your family or your friends, and you will spend the great majority of your time in a hotel room?”

   “I’m fine with that. And, besides, _you_ will be there.”

   She smiled and held a hand to her chest. I got the idea that she was touched. “I will give you time to consider. If you decide that you want to come, I will arrange accommodation for you. I will ensure that you are with me at all times.”

   “Would Clarissa be coming, too?”

   “I suppose I could arrange that,” Toby grumbled. “Though, as much as I love her, she can become quite tiresome over prolonged periods.”

   I pouted, perfectly understanding Toby’s position but still feeling incredibly defensive towards my part-time tutor. “I really like Clarissa. Thank you for letting her teach me.”

   “I knew that you would, and she has done a good job, but she, too, has much to learn. For one thing, she shouldn’t be cutting your nails and coating your beak in lipstick.”

   I blinked and cocked my head. “She hasn’t done _that_.”

   “Not _yet_.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

I bounced higher up into the trees, flitting on sturdy branches that had barely been scanned through my head, barely spent more than half a second in my line of vision. They ran in spirals as I approached my home tree, turning and rising up the tree trunks, leading so conveniently to the branches of the next. Smaller branches and leaves slapped against my chest and my face, momentary obstacles that caused nothing more than minor irritation as I sped onwards, passing by dense vegetation and hand-made platforms where our people’s homes were. They grew more frequent the further into the woods I went, and soon only a little sunlight breached the tiny gaps in the leaves of the tallest trees, and though the skies high above were bright and only slightly clouded, it may as well have been late evening where we lived.

   I was slower than usual today. Having been at Clarissa’s home for a fair portion of the day, I was carrying back with me the usual gift bag that she always insisted I take. Not that I minded. In fact, the gift bags she gave me were almost always useful, both for my family and for my neighbours. She would place a few small items in a paper bag and ask me to bring it home. The last time, she gave a small mirror (much like her tiny pocket mirror), a roll of bandages, a notepad and three pencils. Sometimes, I wondered whether she’d spoilt me, however, because the contents of the bag weren’t always so useful, and were geared more towards my childish love of gadgets and toys. Now that I was getting older, however, things were started to become more practical (though I did miss the occasional arrival of new things to play with).

   I swung into my family tree with my one available arm, the paper bag in the other, and was immediately greeted by my parents. They were sifting through a pile of bark that had been collected during the day, cleaning it of dirt or small animals before it would be eaten or stored. When they noticed my return, they put it aside and sprung up to greet me.

   Mother held me lovingly and kissed my head blades. “Taku home.” She stated.

   “Yes, I’m home,” I agreed. “And Clarissa has given another bag.”

   By this time, Mother had released me from her grip, and allowed Father to approach and give the ritual kiss of his own. “Taku home,” He repeated. “And Taku have new bag.”

   Now the centre of attention, the bag was begging to be opened. The three of us sat around on the main tree platform, and I pulled the small piece of tape from the lips of the bag. I reached inside and pulled out what I could only describe as a gloopy, squishy blob of… something unknown. It was green, and it glopped comfortably into the palm of my hand as I held it up.

   Mother and Father were just as curious and I was, but Father then notified me to a sticky note attached to the side of the object. I pulled it off, and read:

   _A stress toy for your trip. You won’t believe how many of these Toby goes through in a week!_

“A stress toy…” I mused as I removed Clarissa’s message, squeezing the unusual gift in my hands. It was very soft and pleasant to touch, but the sentiment still left me wondering. I handed it to Father, and he continued the investigation into its meaning.

   Then, Mother’s attention was distracted, and she shifted to look past me. “Lenk home,” She chirped. “Lenk _purg_ with us?”

   He jumped onto the platform behind us, and I heard him panting. He was over two years old now, and for Hork-Bajir, that meant he was making the gradual change from childhood to adulthood. Most of his time was spent away from home, carrying with him a yearning for independence and the longing for a mate. The second of such concepts was a mystery to me, but the first I had already gone some way to mastering. From his sustained panting, the three of us assumed that he had been off to some other part of the park, perhaps on the trail of a female that had stolen his interest.

   I hardly saw him anymore, and the only time we really spent together was deep in the middle of the nights when one of us would arrive late at the tree, and would collapse into a slumber among the sleeping area. In the mornings, one of us would usually have left the tree before the other awoke.

   “Hello, Lenk,” I said, leaning backwards to see him. “I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you?”

   He cocked his head, and for a brief period it appeared that he didn’t know what to say. I made space for him in our circle, and he sat beside Mother and me. She gave him the usual motherly kiss, and I just smiled at him acceptingly. His expression barely changed, and he stared blankly at the stress toy that Father was still playing with.

   Finally, he said, “Lenk fine.” He didn’t detail any further.

   I shook my head of the nagging thought that poisoned it, and rummaged more through the brown paper bag. From it, I pulled what appeared to be a shrunken, squishy Hork-Bajir, features such as the blades and the eyes exaggerated in size. I knew that it was a small plush toy, something that Humans bought as cute souvenirs, but my parents had no knowledge of such things.

   Mother’s eyes went wide as she saw the tiny Hork-Bajir. She let out an abrupt, concerned outburst, and said, “What happen?! Why friend so small?!”

   “Human do?” Father asked, also alarmed and having dropped the stress toy.

   I waved a hand dismissively in an attempt to calm them. “No, no. This is just a toy. It is made to look like a Hork-Bajir.”

   Mother reached out a hand, and I agreed to hand over the plush toy. She held it gently in her hand, and then laughed.

   “Not real Hork-Bajir,” She echoed. “Just look like.”

   Assured that there would be no further panic, I delved again into the gift bag. Within, the contents were no longer squishy and fluffy. I felt something boxy and hard, and so I retrieved it.

   It was a bright silver colour, and made of a combination of plastic and metal in a cuboidal shell. On one side was a tiny blank screen, surrounded by a series of small buttons that I instantly deemed too fiddly for my claws to adequately operate. On the other side was a round protruding section, and the title _Canon_.

   “What that?” Lenk asked me, peeking over my shoulder.

   “It’s a camera,” I told. “It’s something Humans use to take pictures of things.”

   Nobody understood that, and I doubted that I could explain it in simpler terms.

   There was another note on the side. I picked it off and read Clarissa’s tilted, fanciful handwriting. It said:

   _You asked me about all the pictures in Toby’s office. I thought you might want to take some yourself. When you’ve got some pictures, I can print them for you to frame. I think you’re smart enough to know how it works._

   I admit, I wasn’t, but Clarissa had knowingly left an instruction manual at the bottom of the paper bag. This was, without doubt, my favourite of her gifts up until that day, and my hearts swelled with gratitude for what she had given me. I remembered seeing the picture that Toby kept close on her desk, of herself and her family gathered. They would always be close to her, and now mine could always be close to me.

   I saved it for later. There was one more item in the bag, and I tipped it upside down to retrieve what was left. Out dropped a small brochure, mostly blue and white in colour. My family watched on curiously as I took a closer look.

   The large words at the top, lined with stars and stripes arranged into a glaring and attention-grabbing slab, read _Washington D. C._ , below which was a picture of the White House under a clear blue sky, and underscored by a beautifully green lawn.

   That was where I was going, and I couldn’t resist the grin that took over my face.

   “What that?” Father asked, leaning forward.

   “It’s a brochure,” I explained. “For Washington D. C.. This is where I’ll be going.”

   I had told them previously that I would be going, but none of them had any idea what Washington was, nor did they know where it was. The idea that I had unleashed upon them now was that Washington was a brochure.

   “Not understand.” Father pouted.

   “I, oh…” I paused and searched for another way to explain. “Those are pictures of Washington. The real Washington D. C. is a big place, where lots of Humans live.”

   I let that sink in. The concept of pictures and brochure is still relatively new to our people, but I knew that Mother and Father had received lessons on this sort of thing from visiting Human teachers, so I was surprised that it took them that long to understand. Eventually, they recalled what they had learned, and the bafflement dropped from their faces.

   “Mago see before!” Father chirped, pointing a finger at the picture of the White House. “See on magic box!”

   The magic box was actually a television set. Millie, one of the park’s education officials, would often visit and allow our people to watch various documentaries about the Human world around us. Quite clearly, she had shown our local population a video that had depicted the White House, because Mother then remembered it, too, as she inspected the brochure herself.

   “Taku go there?” She asked.

   “Yes.”

   “Where is it?”

   “A long way from here,” I said. “Near the East coast.”

   Mother stuttered, and let Father re-take the brochure. “Long way. Taku still sleep at tree?”

   “I can’t. I will be too far away.”

   It confused Mother, and though she was used to me either coming back home late or not coming home at all, it was always just for a single night at a time. Not a day went by when we weren’t in contact, and now I could see the worry in her.

   “How many moons?” Father asked.

   I spoke gently, understanding that they might not like the answer. “I will be away for a week. Seven days. Seven moons.”

   They had to count. I saw Mother lift her hands and start numbering her fingers. She was slow at first, but then she tried to rush it, and her eyes began to water as she reached five and lost count. I felt a crippling stab of guilt as she placed her face in her hands and started to bawl. Father held her gently around the shoulders, and Lenk watched them, unsure.

   I moved forward to comfort her, connecting my head blades with hers and saying. “It’s not too long, and I’ll be back as soon as I finish.”

   Mother pulled away her hands, only to wrap them around mine. “Not want Taku to go. Pok will miss Taku!”

   “I will miss you, too, Mother.” I assured.

   Father pulled Mother closer, and, the stoic figure that he was, said to her, “Taku is _seer_. _Seer_ different. Go to places that Hork-Bajir not go.”

   Thankfully, his words were calming enough to Mother that she stopped sobbing, and she smiled. “Yes. Taku is _seer_ ,” She confirmed. “Pok is being too… um…”

   “Pok not _too_ anything,” Father laughed. “Pok just love Taku.”

   Their hands connected, and suddenly they were clung together like a hungry squirrel and a nut. While they were busy leaning into each other in some loving embrace, an idea sprung up conveniently into my head. I took the camera that I had placed onto the platform and messed around with some buttons. With some trial-and-error, I managed to turn it on, and the tiny screen on the rear of the camera burst with colour. Seconds later, I felt one of my fingers, wrapped around the front of the camera, being displaced. I looked to see the circular protrusion extending, the end blinking open.

   I smiled to Mother, who was now following my movements curiously. “Mother,” I said. “I know how I can go to Washington and stay here, with you, at the same time.”

   Of course, I had to explain, but this time I thought a demonstration would be more appropriate. It didn’t take long at all to learn the basic camera function, and when I did, I took a picture of my parents sat together. The camera unleashed a loud flash that caught them completely by surprise.

   “ _Yati_!” Father grunted, an indication of the pain that the flash inflicted upon his eyes.

   I chuckled. “Sorry, Father. I didn’t remember the flash. Don’t worry, it’s normal.”

   The picture of my parents appeared on the tiny screen, as if they had been shrunk down, frozen, and pushed inside the tiny box. The image was pleasing, and I bent down to show Mother and Father. Their expressions were priceless.

   They were silent at first, gazing with utter bafflement at the tiny picture and trying to comprehend what they were seeing. They had seen pictures before, of course, and they had seen television, but to see themselves was another level of abnormal.

   Father squinted to see it better, and then pointed at Mother’s side of the image. “That is Pok,” He surmised. Then he pointed his finger at his own image. “Who?”

   “That’s you.” I clarified.

   “Mago look like that?!” He burst, pulling the camera closer to get a better look. “Mago have such small snout…”

   Mother huffed. “Pok like Mago snout. Pok look fat!”

   “But how Taku be here and not here?” Mago asked, bringing us back to the original discussion.

   I smiled, knowing that I would not be able to adequately explain it to them, but showing enough confidence to assure them that it would work. “I will put this picture into a frame, so that you can keep it. You will have it while I’m away.”

   “But Taku not in picture…” Mother noted.

   “Oh,” I blinked, mildly embarrassed that I’d forgotten. “I need to be in the picture, too.”

   It was a simple solution that I thought of, and I turned around with hope that Lenk would take the picture while I sat with Mother and Father. He was gone. Perhaps he had left while we weren’t looking. Mother and Father looked deeply concerned, and tried to spot him through the dense horizon of trees.

   He had run off, of course, and I was quickly beginning to understand why he acted like he did. He had always behaved strangely around me, and, before, I couldn’t put my finger on it. I planned to bring it up to him, to resolve our differences.

   First, I finished our photo-shoot, making sure to get a good few images for Clarissa to choose from. Afterwards, I collected everything back in the bag, told my parents that I would be back in time for dinner, and bounced off to visit a tree only about thirty feet away.

   Over the last few months, I had begun to stockpile the various items that would end up in my hands. There were books, toys, gadgets, décor items, and plenty of files and pads of paper, all that needed a home, and that were cluttering up our family tree. For a few days, we were all sleeping on scattered pieces of paper. I decided to make a shelter for all my things, and our closest neighbours were more than happy to help us build a small treehouse. It was indeed very small, but it was just large enough to store all of my things, myself included. Already, I found it filling up, and I would have had to expand sooner or later.

   I crawled into the small tree house, halfway up a large pine near the centre of our locality, and started to empty the bag’s contents into their appropriate sections. My books were all against one wall, as well as my many files of paper and weights to hold them down in case of bad weather. A sheet was also hung over, because my treehouse was not exactly waterproof, despite the blanket of leaves we had created as a roof. To the other side sat shelves of toys and gadgets. I was growing too mature for some of the toys now, and I had thought about donating them to the newest batch of _kawatnoj_ popping up here and there. I placed the camera among the shelves, but would soon be handing it back to Clarissa.

   My task completed, I huffed with satisfaction and let my shoulders relax. I had nothing to do for the rest of the day, and my mind wasn’t at all fussed with finding anything to accomplish. I would be called for a late meal soon, and then Father would likely ask me to help brew a sap-based delicacy that we could share with our neighbours over a campfire during the night. Until then, I could indulge in some reading.

   My reading was now fully concentrated on the encyclopedia, and I was taking it in at a steady, deliberate pace. I was finding it more and more difficult to read, and not for its advanced vocabulary or complex details, but for the oft gruesome content within. I was now reading a section on The Middle Ages, and it was not at all helping my confidence before the trip to Washington.

   So I opened up the book and sat myself down on a makeshift seat, hoping that the more nightmare-inducing material would begin to dissipate. I was now moving onto the _Italian Renaissance_ , which apparently occurred over five-hundred years ago. That seemed like a tremendous amount of time.

   I zipped through the first paragraph, but before I could entirely lose myself in the words, the decipherable sound of creaking branches alerted me to the area outside of my treehouse. I lowered the book from my eye line, and gazed from the narrow opening. A couple of trees away, I spotted Lenk, grooming his blades on the skin of an old pine.

   He didn’t look particularly peeved, but then, he had never really expressed much emotion in my presence. He was always so quiet around me. Now was the opportunity to find out what was going on. I put the book down, making certain to save my page, and leaped from the treehouse and towards him. He saw me as I bounced into the adjacent tree, and looked as if he wanted to leave, but by then I was too close, and he stopped grooming to face me blankly.

   I stood on the opposite branch. “Where did you go?” I asked him.

   He stared long and hard, and then his eyes averted awkwardly. “Lenk go.”

   “Yes, I know,” I grumbled, edging closer to his branch by hooking onto a higher one and shimmying around the trunk. “But _why_ did you go?”

   Lenk lowered his neck and scratched at his lower jaw. “Lenk go.” He repeated.

   He was fidgeting awkwardly, and I almost felt guilty for confronting him in such a manner, but, as his brother, I felt that we needed more of a connection. I wanted one. “We have never spent much time together, Lenk,” I said. “Do you not like being around me?”

   Lenk shrugged, and that was, in my mind, a clear ‘yes’. I shuffled closer so that I was stood directly before him. “Could you tell me why? I want to know, brother.”

   “Taku different,” Lenk stated, though it was not in the way that our people usually would. “Do different.”

   I latched onto what he had said and mulled it over, while urging him to continue. All the while, he avoided eye contact between us.

   “Lenk think… Just think…” He hesitated for a long while, and in the end clasped his hands around his head in frustration. “Mother, Father. Say that Lenk get little brother, but Lenk get _big_ brother.”

   “Lenk,” I hushed calmly. “I _am_ your little brother.”

   He shook his head, taking his hands away. “No. Taku know things Lenk not. Go where Lenk not. Never.”

   There was not a great number of ways to convince him otherwise. Quite frankly, I chose the wrong way. “Maybe, someday, you will go to those places. And you know some things that I don’t know.”

   Lenk grunted and started to turn, ready to leave. “No. Lenk never go, never learn like Taku.”

   I gave myself a mental slap, and tried again. “I am a _seer_ , so I have to do some different things. That doesn’t mean that we can’t be brothers.”

   “Mother and Father like Taku. Like more than Lenk.”

   “That’s not true!” I countered instinctively.

   Lenk nodded pitiably. “True.”

   I was beginning to get frustrated at his irreversible self-pitying, but at the same time I felt greatly sorry for him. It was not often that I got to spend time with our parents, so they would make a fuss of me whenever I was around, usually to the unintentional exclusion of my brother. Of course, he would see that as favouritism, and it explained why he would have a grudge against me. This was exactly what I had suspected.

   “I am sorry that you feel that way, brother,” I offered. “But I know that Mother and Father love you. It’s just that I am not around much for them. I am sorry if anything I have done has hurt you.”

   Lenk nodded, and though I could tell that he still didn’t believe me, he at least said, “Lenk forgive. Taku is brother.”

   It made me smile deep inside, and that moment was a prime reminder of the forgiveness of our people. I was slowly being sucked into a very different world, a world filled with Humans and all of the baggage that they dragged along with them. Our similarities were subtle and poetic, but our differences monstrous and cutting. Just months with the Human presence, watching television shows and broadcasts, and even talking with Clarissa, had dulled me to the generosity and sensitivity of those that I shared genes with. I had almost expected Lenk to spit at my feet and curse my name, maybe even lash out, but he was not like that. He was a Hork-Bajir. He was not a Human.

   That line between us was slowly disappearing, and though I realised that, it just became harder and harder to stop.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The travelling was exhausting, and though what waited filled me with such an avalanche of enthusiasm, the journey to Washington D.C. was almost painful in its lack of comfort and its excessive length. I would have been ecstatic to finally leave our private plane, but I was so tired that I could barely lift my eyelids to take in our newest surroundings. The change from plane to car was a blur, and I slept for the entire car journey until we reached our final destination.

   Having slept, I was unrestrained in my ability to admire the establishment that Toby had arranged for us to stay in. She had mentioned that she would find the best place to reside, her personal favourite, and I could easily see why the one chosen was so highly regarded. It was picturesque, a photogenic masterpiece on the side of a grassy hill, a beacon that looked over the city circling us. There was noise, yes, but it was restricted to the wind and the monotonous buzz from nearby pylons that was ever-present in Human habitats – subtle and generally unnoticeable.

   We had entered a circular parking lot in our own large and shiny black vehicle, spotting on the way a sparse distribution of Humans on the hotel’s grounds. At the entrance, we were greeted by a man in a black and white collection of clothing who introduced himself as simply ‘Warburton’. He brought in two silent Humans to take the luggage that the rest of our party had brought along, and invited us all inside. Personally, I was more than happy to stay outside to find some trees or gaze a little longer at the views of the city, but out of courtesy I followed them in.

   And twenty minutes or so later, I entered my temporary home.

   I padded in, feet connecting with a light-brown (perhaps beige) carpet, soft on my skin and strangely welcoming. My room could only be described as a work of art, and when I finally moved entirely within the room, my bag clutched in my hand, I just had to stand still and witness in awe what I had been treated to. Humans generally enjoyed living in homes that were decorated with countless materials and artworks and combinations of colours, something that I had learned both from spending time in Clarissa’s home and from my encyclopedia. This, however, was something other-worldly. I dropped my bag by the door, intending to empty it after I had taken in the sights.

   “Move, Taku,” Clarissa grumbled. I felt the blunt edge of the door pressing against my rear, urging me out of the way. “Could I get in, please?”

   “Sorry, Clarissa.” I apologised, walking a few steps forward to allow her the room she needed to enter. She sighed heavily as she bundled through, her reaction to the surroundings not so blissful. She had witnessed it before.

   Dragged behind her was a small but hefty suitcase, and she wheeled it over to lean it against the nearest feature, which turned out to be the side of a brown leather sofa. Then, she placed her hands on her hips and grinned pleasingly to me. “Are you impressed?”

   I was slowly turning on my feet, observing the wonderful room. “I really like it, thank you,” I replied. “I can see why Toby would like the place.”

   My eyes caught sight of the coffee table on the other side of the room, created with some kind of wood. Probably pine. Suddenly, my stomach decided to be hungry. Now interested in other aspects of my residence, I crept forward to the large window that illuminated the room. My view overlooked the parking lot where we had arrived, but to the left was an area that had been previously hidden, blocked off by a large wooden fence. I saw a couple of trees, small but appealing, and already I found my mouth watering.

   My ears picked up the sound of a zip. Clarissa had taken it upon herself to start emptying my bag onto the small worktop that circled a basic kitchen section. Admittedly, I didn’t have much with me. I needed no clothes, no gadgets, and only a small number of things that were mostly here to remind me of home. True to form, though, Clarissa had thoughtfully supplied me with a few items that I didn’t necessarily require but found a pleasure to own.

   “Where do I put it all?” I asked her as I rummaged through the pile that she had created.

   She shrugged. “Wherever you want. It’s your room, silly.”

   From the pile of assorted objects, I pulled up a small picture, brand new and contained within a thick leather frame. A picture of Mother and Father. The one which Clarissa deemed most frame-worthy, I assumed. It made me smile, and I already I knew that it would be a centrepiece.

   “Thank you for this,” I said to Clarissa, who had picked out a scarf which suited me… apparently. “I always wondered how Mother and Father would look in a picture.”

   “You make a pretty good photographer,” She commented. “How were your parents when you left?”

   “Mother cried,” I recalled. “But she understands why I’m leaving. I think. Father said that I should try to bring back some new bark.”

   “I don’t think you’ll get much bark around here.”

   I fell silent briefly and looked to her. “What do you mean? Are the trees here the same as the ones in Yellowstone?”

   She shrugged. “Not really. It’s just that we’re not in the country, you know. We’re in Washington D.C.”

   I blinked, wishing for her to explain further.

   “There aren’t many trees,” She explained sorrowfully. “And the trees that _are_ here are owned by people who probably don’t want them eaten. There are a lot of parks in Washington, but I don’t think the owners want a Hork-Bajir on their trees.”

   That was not exactly what I had expected, and though I did my best to appear unaffected, I knew that Clarissa could see my disappointment.

   “So where do I eat?” I asked. “Where do I sleep?”

   She smiled, intending to provide assurance. “You don’t think the hotel would be prepared? They bring in food for you, duh.”

   “And what about sleep?”

   Her hand clamped around mine, and then she started to drag me through the room. I attempted to avoid banging my legs or tail against the variety of obstacles that would get in the way (and I was mostly successful, aside from banging my shin against the low-standing coffee table).

   There was another door that I hadn’t taken note of, and she pulled me through to witness what I instantly deciphered as a bedroom. It was dominated by a huge bed, one that could comfortably hold three Humans or two of our people. As I turned, I saw that the wall by the door was a series of cabinets and drawers with mirrors for surfaces. Aside from those main features, there was a mass of floor space, enough to lay splayed on the floor without touching any other surface. The colour scheme matched the other room: Large, extravagant, and unbelievably pleasing to the eye.

   “It’s big…” I muttered. “This is a Human bed. Will you be sleeping here?”

   She laughed, and pushed me lightly. “I have my own room.”

   I couldn’t place my reaction to the situation. It was somewhere between disappointment and confusion, but for the entire journey I was expecting to reside in some tree outside of the hotel. That’s where I wanted to stay, at least, but clearly that was not a possibility. I bent forward and pressed a hand to the duvet, feeling the material contour to the shape of my fingers. It was a sensation I wasn’t used to, being more accustomed to the stiff, rough touch of bark, or the stringy dry grass that would usually lull us to sleep.

   “I have to sleep on this bed?” I questioned, hoping that I didn’t sound unenthusiastic.

   “Yeah,” She replied. “Don’t worry; they understand that it might get a little torn-up.”

   I looked to my wrist and elbow blades. “It won’t last long. My body won’t be used to lying flat.”

   “You’ll be fine.” She offered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and bouncing on the mattress. She patted the space beside her, inviting me down, and I decided to indulge.

   However, instead of simply sitting on the edge, I dropped my hands onto the surface, followed by my knees, angled wide enough so that the blades on my knees wouldn’t pierce the materials. I rested my entire body weight in the centre of the bed, and then carefully lowered myself onto my stomach. I was lying flat, and though my blades were unencumbered, I felt entirely out of place.

   “Comfy?” Clarissa asked me.

   I assessed my position, and breathed heavily. “I’m not sure.”

   “Don’t be such a baby.”

   I twisted my neck and looked back towards her. “Toby sleeps on beds like these, too?”

   Clarissa nodded. “Of course she does. She never complains, but it’s obvious she wants to.”

   “So she doesn’t like it much,” I muttered. It could have been worse, looking back, and I was definitely grateful that I was given a place to stay. At any rate, my accommodation was wonderful and appeasing, and I wouldn’t let a strange bed ruin anything. “At least it is big enough for us.”

   Clarissa looked perplexed, and I wondered if I had caused her offense. “Us?”

   “Toby and myself.” I explained.

   She laughed again, and I realised that every time she laughed, it was always in conclusion of something that caused me to feel a little more downhearted. “You aren’t sharing a bed with Toby, Taku. You’re in a hotel! You don’t need body-heat to keep you warm, because this place has its own heating.”

   “So where does she sleep?”

   “Next door,” She said. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that her bedroom is just on the other side of that wall.”

   The concept wasn’t entirely new to me, and in a moment of curiosity I reached up and knocked on the wall that stood over the bed. I listened closely, and after a few seconds, three knocks were quietly returned. I giggled, and let my youthful side take over.

   “Toby!” I shouted at approximately mid-volume. “Are you in there?”

   A second or two passed. Then, muted through the wall, “ _Yes”_.

   I crawled a little closer. “We can talk through the walls!” I explained cheerfully.

   “ _Stop shouting”_ , I heard. “ _The other guests will complain!”_

The guilt stopped me, but already I was in a better mood. I mischievously gave another few knocks, and shifted so that I was sat upright beside the big white pillows. “I like it here,” I mentioned to Clarissa, who was now checking her nails. “I want to see more of the hotel.”

   She looked down at her glossy red nails, but I could see the hint of a smile. “Don’t you think you should settle in here, first? Finish unpacking, you know? Besides, I need some sleep. I am _so_ tired right now.”

   I ducked my head from embarrassment. “You’re right. I should explore my own rooms first. Maybe I could read some more, too.”

   “The encyclopedia? How much have you read now?” She asked.

   “I’ve read up to the founding of America,” I informed, pleasing myself with the appropriateness of that fact. “It’s good timing, I think, because this would be a good place to learn more about America’s history.”

   She grinned, but she continued to stare at her nails. It wasn’t at all unusual. “No doubt.”

   “I should visit the Washington monument,” I suggested to myself whimsically. “Or the Lincoln Memorial. I could see the museums.”

   I continued to list the various places that I could imagine visiting, all the different places that I had seen on the television or in pictures or in my numerous books. The longer I outwardly fantasised, however, the more uneasy Clarissa appeared. After a while, I quietened, and then my concern finally stopped me.

   “Clarissa?”

   She was still doing her nails, but it didn’t seem genuine anymore. “Taku,” She started with a voice full of sympathy. “You can’t really see those places. Not this week, anyway.”

   That brought my mood back down instantly. “Why not?”

   “Look,” She sighed, and she took a hold of my left elbow blade and shook it lightly. “You’re covered in blades. You can’t go to places with crowds unless it’s planned weeks in advance.”

   I pouted instinctively. “So where _can_ I go?”

   Much to my grief, she hesitated. Her answer didn’t help, either. “I’m sorry, Taku. You’ll probably just go wherever Toby goes. She has a meeting with a few representatives and an interview for FOX News. That’s about it.”

   “That should be fun.” I said, putting into play my natural Hork-Bajir optimism.

   Clarissa nodded, and finally put her nails down. “We’ll make it fun. Just stick with me, okay? Toby won’t be much help when it comes to fun.”

   I laughed, and joined her when she stood up from the bed. “I should move my things. I want to put my picture frame beside the bed, but I don’t know where everything else will go.”

   “Take your time. Just make sure you’re ready to go downstairs at seven for dinner.” She said. Then she puckered her lips.

   It was the invite to a Human kiss, and it can mean a lot of different things. For me, they were a sign that I was not alone, even though the two of us were of different races originating from far distant planets. It raised my confidence, essentially, and though it was most frequent when I was a small _kawatnoj_ , it would still occur whenever I found myself in an unusual situation. I dropped my head down slightly, and let her peck on my cheek.

   Not often did I see the reaction she had just then, though. She cringed and contorted her face to express displeasure. “Eww. Taku, when did you last shower?”

   “Shower?”

   She huffed and dropped her shoulders. “Before you go downstairs, you should take a shower. It’s just through there,” She pointed out of the bedroom door, and to another that was placed on the opposite side of my accommodation. “Instructions are there. Remember, we’re in a really fancy place, so you have to be presentable, you know.”

   “Okay,” I whimpered. “I’ll do that now.”

   Clarissa left to empty her luggage into her room (including several suitcases that mostly included clothes, shoes, and various little gadgets used to achieve what she called _The Standard)_ , leaving me to my own devices. I put the picture frame on my bedside table, and left the rest of my stuff in the main room. It was just a collection of small stress toys for the journey, the scarf that Clarissa had chosen for me, and various other things that I probably wouldn’t use while actually in D.C.. My book was present, too.

   That took all of ten seconds, and so my next objective was to have a shower, and that was not something that I ever looked forward to. Clarissa’s shower was notoriously temperamental, and the ceiling in the bathroom so low that I was always ducking. I had used Cassie’s shower once, and it was much better. I hoped that this shower was just as exceptional as the rest of my temporary home was.

   The instructions were basic and straight-forward, and so I started it up and left it to reach a suitable temperature. In the meantime, I investigated the rest of the bathroom. As expected, the quality and aesthetic was wonderful, again matching the mahogany and white theme.

   However, even during my time at Clarissa’s home, the bathroom was not a room I used often, other than for showers, and it was therefore still rather foreign to me. (The Human toilet, unsurprisingly, is not built with Hork-Bajir in mind, but with no trees that I could use here in Washington, it was something I would have to get used to. I was not looking forward to that.)

   I placed my arm around the glass pane that signified the shower, and opened my palm to test the water. It felt different from the showers I had used before, with the water coming down harder and thicker, but that was surprisingly pleasant, as was the temperature it had levelled out at. Satisfied, I searched out a soft and large white towel, draped it over the sink nearby, and stepped into the white basin of the shower. My feet were instantly rushed with warm water, and upon realising that sensation, I also spotted that the shower was vaster than I initially thought. There was plenty of room, even though my feet were multitudes larger than a Human’s, and even though I had a tail that forever swung low beneath me. I came to appreciate that the Humans had given me, and presumably Toby, accommodation that would allow us the space we needed. I was greatly impressed, just as I was with the shower.

   I never plan to stay in showers for long, and I would historically be in them for no more than five minutes, but this was different. I genuinely enjoyed this experience, and for a while I even found myself investigating the bottles of body gel and the sponges that had been provided for me by the hotel. I smelled them, and found them too powerful for my olfactory senses, but they simply lent a pleasant atmosphere to this new shower experience. After a while, my surroundings had been wholly explored, and my mind sunk within itself as I fell into an almost philosophical daze. I stood there, unmoving, just thinking about… things.

   Then my senses came into play. I was thirsty, having not drunk anything for a few hours. The solution was pretty simple, and I turned around once I had pulled myself from my motionless trance to lift my head up, open my mouth, and let the water spray onto my tongue. I lapped at it, pulling water in and sucking it down, and then I pulled away, averse to the hot water pummelling my face.

   The water tasted strange, much more so than the water back in Yellowstone. It wasn’t undrinkable, but neither was it appetising. It was liquid, however, and my thirst was quenched for the moment.

   I switched off the shower and stepped out, taking the towel from the sink and carefully drying myself off, taking precautions that would mean avoiding tears in the fabric.

   All was fine for a while, and when dry, I put my towel back on its rack to dry and headed back out towards the main room of my accommodation. As I stepped onto the carpeting, though, I felt a little tinge in my chest, a sharp aching sensation that made my hand reach up to clutch at where it occurred. I gasped when the pain turned into a steady ache arising from my gut, and I hunched over onto the nearest sofa, my head spinning into a daze.

   My breathing turned to panting, and my body began to feel weak and limp. That only subsided briefly when my stomach rocked and gave up the battle, causing me to vomit with little warning onto the sofa I was leaning over. I moaned unhappily beneath my strained panting and tried to head back to the bathroom, in case my stomach decided to rebel yet again. I stumbled a little, but my tail kept my balance.

   I was nearly there, but I stopped moving when I heard a gentle knocking on the front door. I stuttered a breath inwards and called, “Come in.”

   It clicked open, and much to my instant relief, it was Toby poking her head around the door. Perhaps it was the noise I was undoubtedly making that had alerted her, but she definitely looked a little perturbed when she saw me shivering and dripping vomit from my snout.

   “Hello, Toby,” I greeted her. “Am I being too noisy?”

   She entered the room and let the door shut itself behind her. Then she shook her head sympathetically. “Taku,” She said, and she lifted a six-pack of water bottles into the air between us. “Did you drink the water?”


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

   I was meant to be visiting the capitol for six days. I was bed-ridden for three of those. Toby and Clarissa were adamant that they had given me ample warning not to consume any water that came from a tap or the hotel showers, and though I didn’t actually recall them saying It, I know that, for a lot of the journey, I wasn’t paying much attention to anything external, including their lectures.

   It turned out that the water used in Washington via taps and showers contained a number of chemicals that were not so harmful to Humans, but were a little sickening for Hork-Bajir. Toby berated me, and actually provided a full list of the chemicals that could have invaded my system. None of them sounded overly pleasant, and I certainly learned my lesson. I was drinking designated bottle water from then on, and my body quickly recovered.

   Those were three days that were originally intended for following Toby while she went about her normal activities. I wasn’t able to do so, and was severely disappointed to know that there was so much that I would miss. Nevertheless, it made me ever more excited to utilise the remaining days to the full. When the third came around, and I was assured that I could begin activities the next day, I immediately began to formulate plans. (Not that they would come of much use, I just enjoyed doing it.)

   There was still a niggling of disappointment. I was so determined to see the city landmarks, and I had built up the excitement to such a peak that the thought of being unable to see them was a mighty crash to my happiness. But, on that third day, Toby and Clarissa brought me wonderful news. Maybe it was born of sympathy for my predicament, but they had speedily arranged a short visit to the Lincoln Memorial, saying that they thought I deserved to see at least one landmark. I was extremely thankful, and that news almost rid me of the sickness all by itself.

   It was good news through a boring period of time. When sick, my days comprised of sitting in the unfamiliar bed, watching a pull-out television and, according to Clarissa, whining like a lost dog. The nights were especially bad, when I actually needed sleep but could find no comfort on the flat surface on the bed. Not only that, but I was unused to sleeping by myself, and after five minutes on the first night I was asking Toby to stay in my room. She was more than happy to do so, but she told me that sleeping alone was something I would have to get accustomed to. For Hork-Bajir, that is not a natural situation to be in.

   In the end, I was most thankful to have recovered with days to spare, though Toby passed me stern warnings to only ever use the bottled water. Tap water, chlorinated water, even puddle water was off limits. I wasn’t going to argue.

   That aside, I was ready to tackle Washington. With Toby having a day off, we planned to visit the Lincoln Memorial, doing a little more sight-seeing, then relax and prepare for her FOX interview the next day. I was free to do as I wished within the obvious boundaries, but it was advised that I use any opportunity to learn about Human city life and the expectations that might one day fall onto me.

   Toby was up three hours before me, preparing for the day ahead. I had no idea what the fuss was all about, and I watched as she zipped between our rooms, making notes, checking files and making plenty of phone calls. After a while, she tried to force me from my prolonged snoozing, with the reasoning that I would need to be fully awake when out in the city. I grunted at her mostly, having had little sleep, but she was determined and threatened to leave me in the apartment all day, yet again.

   She didn’t like me droopy-eyed, hunched, and interrupting every sentence with a yawn. Looking as if I had just got out of bed, basically. She ordered breakfast for the both of us, and ordained that I shower. Then, I was made to brush and floss my teeth. It was a strange experience, and I was revolted at the taste the toothpaste provided.

   However, my breath smelled acceptable, something that is essential in Human society (according to Clarissa).

   I thought we were ready, but Toby decided otherwise. She made another phone call, and I listened in as she arranged for our “security” to show. It made sense in a way, much like the fences that surrounded our home at Yellowstone and the barriers at the recent gathering in Cheyenne. If we were going into the public area, we would need some kind of protection, both for ourselves and the Humans in the area.

   Twenty minutes later, a knock came from the door of my room, and a large Human in black clothing stepped in. He was almost as tall as Toby, and she was quick to introduce.

   “Hello, Dave,” She greeted, shaking his hand. “I hope you are well.”

   “I’m fantastic!” He grinned. “We are arranging your transport right now, so whenever you’re ready, we can go.”

   Toby nodded, and then opened her palm towards me. “This is Taku Kelmut. He will be coming, too.”

   The Human, the only one I had come across who rivalled me for height and exceeded me in width, offered his hand, and I took it. “Hi, Taku.” He greeted.

   “Hello, Dave.”

   We had little to pack - Nothing, actually, apart from the breakfast leftovers that I would nibble on for the travel. In no rush, and waiting for those accompanying us who had considerably more to take, we occupied our time by mingling with the security who would be acting as our shield, getting to know names and faces. They were large Humans, and while talking to them I discovered that I had unknowingly developed an aversion to the larger individuals, undoubtedly due to what I had witnessed on television. They were often depicted as more violent (a phenomenon I had also sub-consciously attributed to Humans in general, but more so for the bulkier individuals), but I was thankful to see that particular stereotype dissolved from my mind. I was warmly welcomed, and I knew that I was in safe hands.

   We were squeezed into the back of a black sedan and driven toward the centre of the capitol. A national park, I was told, that housed three major landmarks: The Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, and the White House, among others. Our arrangements meant that we had a space to sit in the park, and part of the Memorial had been closed off so that we could venture inside. We had not arranged far enough in advance to have a full tour of the area, but we would see it all from afar, at least.

   After a short trip, we drove over the Memorial Bridge and into the National Mall. It was late morning, and the area was packed with tourists, as eager as I was to take in the history and the culture, and to use the rest of the day to laze in the summer sun. They paid little attention to our convoy as we drove down Ohio Drive and down towards the Memorial.

   It was a square building, large and resting before a large body of water. The structure itself was white and held up with great pillars, like lines of thick tree trunks. It reminded me of Greek architecture that I had seen in my book. Humans stood between the pillars, cameras held around their necks, most of them wearing sunglasses and many wearing hats. It was very reminiscent of scenes that I had seen on television – mostly holiday advertisements.

   But yet again, my attention was dragged by the trees that were strewn throughout the park, and they were mostly kinds that I had not seen before. Already, after just a few days, I was craving the comforts of home.

   Our vehicles came to a halt on the Southern side of the Memorial building, the parking location separated from the public by a select few members of the security team. It was embarrassing, to be honest, especially since the Humans could see me stumble from the rear door of our vehicle. When out in the open, my ears began to pick out the distinctive sound of cameras clicking, and I came to the instant conclusion that it was just another thing I would have to grow to. I hoped that it wouldn’t become too invasive.

   Dave the security leader came to check on us, to make sure we were content with the environment, and then he gave us a pass. “Enjoy!” He gifted, stepping aside.

   I would have been far too overwhelmed to do much, had Toby not been there. She didn’t even need to ask for me to follow her, but she shot me one of her usual knowing looks and walked in the direction of the front of the building. I followed, with a couple of the security team behind.

   We had to traverse two flights of steps in order to enter the strange building, and that meant getting very close to the Humans who had quickly started to gather, forming crowds that buzzed with chatter and photography flashes. When our path narrowed, one of the security team walked at my right, blocking me off from visiting Humans who were little more than a metre away.

   The interior was huge, and its aura struck me the moment that we stepped foot onto the flooring. We were positioned on the left side, or on the statue’s right as it faced out over the park ahead, and what had been sectioned off was a few pillars that had continued inside, leading up to the marvellously sculpted centrepiece. Past those pillars and at the very side of the building were what appeared to be large sheets or plaques. They were hard to see from where I was initially stood, but there was a lot of writing. I made a note to myself to read it, but my first objective was to inspect the massive statue of the man named Abraham Lincoln.

   It was even better to see in person, and I stood for a while to admire the work that had been put into it and the dedication to someone that the Humans found so influential. Creating such complex works simply for the memory of important events was such a Human thing to do, and it didn’t seem to be the case that they would otherwise forget about the person in question. It was like a bonus, a showing of how much they cared for someone or something, and it was perhaps my favourite of their aspects: The determination to make something brilliant, rather than just leave it as good.

   I sensed Toby stroll up beside me. “Is it bigger than you expected?” She asked me.

   “Yes,” I replied. “It’s very big.”

   “Have you done much research on Abraham Lincoln?”

   I scratched at my chin and searched my memory. “Not that much.”

   She nodded, gazing up at Lincoln just as I was. “What do you know?”

   “He was the sixteenth president,” I recalled. “And he was in leadership during the Civil War. He... I haven’t read much more than that. I haven’t got that far in my book yet.” I bowed my head, rather ashamed that I had come to see the Human’s memorial with such limited knowledge.

   “What do you know of the Civil War?” She asked.

   I shrugged lightly. “A civil war is when two or more groups within the same nation are in conflict. I think the American Civil War was between two groups called the Union and the Confederacy. Wasn’t it a war over slavery?”

   Toby nodded. “Partly. Abraham Lincoln was the president during that war, and one of his goals was to abolish slavery in America. Some southern states opted to secede, and they became the Confederacy, while the opposing states called themselves the Union. They fought from 1861 to 1865, and it was reportedly the bloodiest war in America’s history.”

   “You know a lot about the war?”

   She smiled proudly. “In my profession, I need to know a lot about the United States of America.” 

   I laughed. “Oh, I guess so.”

   “Abraham Lincoln was an influential figure for the Union, and they triumphed. Today, he is still celebrated for his actions, such as his attempts to reunite the nation and the drafting of the Emancipation Proclamation. His actions were a great step forward in the freeing of slaves in America.”

   “I’m nearly at that point in my book,” I explained.

   “Where are you now?”

   “I’ve read about the American War of Independence, and the writing of the US constitution. Before that, I read about how America was founded.” I twiddled my tail and proceeded to say, “I’ve read about a lot of wars. It seems to be something that Humans do often.”

   Toby nodded, “America is at war as we speak, though perhaps not to the same degree.”

   I recalled the last time that I watched a news broadcast, and figured that she was correct. Then, I decided to discard what was turning out to be a grim topic and return to the previous one. I looked back up to Lincoln, and smiled. “So Abraham Lincoln freed slaves. Now he has this amazing statue. Where is yours?”

   Toby blinked and faced me, puzzled.

   I elaborated, “You freed our people, just like Abraham Lincoln freed his.”

   She shook her head in disagreement, but chuckled lightly. “It’s different, Taku. Besides, I merely helped in the freeing of my people. I was a minor piece in a great puzzle.”

   “Not from what I’ve heard.”

   “They are fond of me, definitely,” She sighed. “But my people acknowledge me because I was the only one that they could really talk to in the days of the war. Nobody listened to them. Not the Andalites. Not the Humans. Even the Animorphs tended to stay away, unless we were in desperate need. My people were almost just as scared of our allies as they were of our enemies, though they never liked to admit it. I made a lot of mistakes, Taku, and it was not I who swept up the mess.”

   “I think you’re just trying to be humble.” I countered, still amazed that she would play down her own involvement.

   She shrugged. “My parents were rescued by the Animorphs and… another entity. They came to our aid when it was needed, and gave us a place to live uninterrupted. I would have liked to see them more often, to maybe get more involved in their missions, to play bigger role. I could have freed more Hork-Bajir, if I did, and I could have implemented different tactics. I often disapproved of their methods. They were sometimes reckless, and though I understand the risks of their duties, I felt that they paid too little regard to Hork-Bajir under Yeerk control. The only one of them that I ever spoke to about that was Tobias, and he was too distant at the time to care. That’s how it seemed.”

   “You haven’t told me about this before.” I said, concerned.

   “There are a lot of things about the Animorphs that I prefer to keep to myself. They were the real heroes of the war, and not even the Andalites had the audacity to disagree with that. They rightly have statues of their own in their old home town. If it weren’t for them, I would not be here today. My father, who was more of a hero than I’ll ever be, would not have been rescued, and nor would Mother. The Hork-Bajir as a race may have gone extinct, because the Yeerks sent us all into their battles, the Andalites didn’t see us as anything other than obstacles, and the Humans would never show us any sympathy if they only ever saw us under Yeerk control. Truly, the Animorphs should be our idols, as they are for the Humans. However, they were children, and they also made mistakes and bad decisions, some more excusable than others. Then the Yeerk war ended, and they all went in different directions, both physically and mentally.”

   I accepted what she said, but I still stood beside my earlier point. “I think you should have a statue, too.”

   She smiled, almost bashfully. “Thank you, Taku. I’m glad that you see me in such high regard.”

   “You’ve done a lot for me,” I explained. “This, for example. I must be only the second Hork-Bajir since the war to ever come to Washington.”

   “Third.”

   “Third?”

   She grinned. “Mother was second. She refused to let me go alone for the first time.”

   “Did she enjoy it?”

   Toby hummed indecisively, but then replied, “She enjoyed the spa.”

   “Oh,” I retorted blankly.

   We stayed a little longer to admire the building. I did my own research and read two of Lincoln’s speeches that were present on the walls, and Toby, having seen it on several occasions, turned her attention away, firstly to the distant landmarks and then to the gathering tourists. She didn’t exactly revel in the attention they gave her, and, to be honest, I had no idea what she was trying to do. She talked a lot, but it was clearly in her formal style, not meant to entertain and not necessarily trivial. I admired her ability to keep a crowd intrigued, however.

   I took some time to think about all the messages that my brain was conjuring since we had arrived, and the relevance of the Lincoln statue to the situation of our people. I thought that maybe Toby was right: Perhaps she wasn’t the great saviour that I had envisaged. When slavery was abolished in America, it was not abolished by one of the slaves. Lincoln was not a slave, and I imagined that he would not be associated with those who were. In much the same way, it was not the Hork-Bajir who saved the Hork-Bajir, but somebody of a completely different background who saw injustice and demanded that it stopped.

   And as I watched Toby patrol the border between us and them, I came to a few realisations that I had previously contemplated but then came to really know. She was something so important, so integral to the well-being of our people, more so than I ever thought before.

   We were in debt. I had seen television shows that detailed such situations, and I understood the value of payment to Human society. If it truly was the Humans that had saved us, then we would be expected to pay them back in some way.

    I had to do my bit. I finished up my reading, stretched my limbs, and headed back out of the building and to the first set of steps. It was now the middle of the day, and the sun bore down heavily onto my dark skin, causing my body to warm instantly to the point where I started to pant. The number of Humans had rocketed, and they gathered en masse as they usually did, creating huge, packed crowds that swivelled and jigged past each other like a mob of ants. There were far too many to count, and it was hard to put my mind towards any single individual. It was like one great super-organism.

   Dizzied, overwhelmed, and ignorant of pretty much everything that lay before me, I stepped forward with a great smile on my face.

   The crowds, who until then were focused on Toby, noticed me, and some stepped over to make themselves known. I was stood just behind one of Dave’s team, one that looked like a tall pillar with pan-like hands clutched behind his back. He was my border, a boundary that protected me. I’m not sure whether the Humans were more intimidated by me or him.

   A family arrived first: a mother, a father, and two small children. They looked genuinely pleased to see me, though maybe not as much as their flashing camera. We introduced, and I rapidly ran out of things to say, my head preoccupied with my surroundings as more Humans began to arrive.

   I didn’t know who to speak to, who to focus on. This was not an organised series of greetings like the event in Cheyenne, but a mass wall of faces and words, and I had no idea where to start or even where to finish. In the end, I was merely posing, occasionally grunting a hello or answering a basic, one-word-answer question. I was a camera piece. I was a statue.

   I didn’t want to be a statue. I looked over at Toby, and saw her in a much more pleasurable setting. She had organised the Humans, pulling small groups aside and answering their various questions with poise and formality. A beacon of reason and humility. A _seer_.

   I wasn’t going to be a sideshow.

   With a deep intake of air into my lungs, I pushed out my chest and stepped slowly forward. My stride took me past the security, and I stood no more than a metre from the nearest Human.

   The reaction was not quite what I expected. They back away just as much as I had progressed forward, their faces turning just that little bit paler. I saw one child panic and run behind its mother for cover.

   This was okay, maybe even expected, but I attempted to show that I was not deterred and held out my arms, hands open. “Hello, Humans. My name is Taku Kelmut.”

   It was moderately successful. My advance past security intimidated some, but it only took those few moments for the rest to start moving back towards me. They knew my name, and their questions became more intense, more personal. Then, I really started to lose control.

   They surrounded me further, my identity as _the new seer_ , uttered by several, brought even more Humans, the crowd before me swelling and soon spilling over. They began to move behind me, and I watched with growing concern as the path to the security border began to shrink.

   Once again, my throat closed. I was unable to concentrate on the infrequent words that came. I could barely even request that they let me move, my own voice drowned out by the clicking of cameras and calls directed between them.

   I was not ready, and I began to twiddle nervously with my tail again. They were growing irritated when I no longer answered their questions, not even the yes-or-no’s.

   With no other choice but to retreat, I tried to excuse myself. I turned.

   My arm moved almost unintentionally as my brain tried to organise the panic that was tickling my nerves. It stopped, as did the rest of my body, when I saw my wrist blade inches from the throat of a small Human child.

   He had stumbled, so clumsy at his tender age, sprawling his feet and falling face first towards my exposed blade. He had frozen, and so had the rest of the now silenced crowd.

   Stunned and fearful, I stepped back. That was when I saw a large green hand across his chest, stopping his fall and sparing his neck. Toby then used her hand to pull the child back to his feet, and after a moment of hesitation he ran, too shocked to simply burst into tears.

   Toby stood tall, and immediately the crowd started to back away, fully aware of what had occurred. Her stare was rested entirely on me, and it was not one of pity. Whatever emotion she felt was clearly struggling to be restrained, and the look told me all that I needed to know.

   “Taku, get back behind the line.” She ordered, and I was more than happy to obey.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

“So how do you turn it on?”

   “It’s that button there,” The Human in the blue baseball cap explained. He pointed to a square button on the underside of the huge camera. “The red one.”

   We were stood in a makeshift studio. Not that I would know what an actual studio would look like, but it was a quick half-hour set up, including a backdrop, a sole camera manned by the Human I was chatting with, and a couple of Humans whose specific jobs were beyond my knowledge. With all of that was a flat piece of equipment displaying a few levers and knobs, and beside that was a large screen. All of that was set up in a government building somewhere near the white house (another landmark that I wished to view), in a side room where nobody would disturb us.

   I wasn’t disappointed, really, but what I had expected for Toby’s FOX interview was to be greeted into a huge network building where I could see all of the studios and all of the equipment. I expected to see Toby sitting beside an author, or perhaps a state governor, as well as the actual host of whichever show she was appearing on. I wished to see them discuss both in front and off of the cameras, and to maybe indulge in the discussions myself.

   But the FOX News building, with all of the authors and governors and studios, was in New York. We were in Washington. Toby was joining the discussions from afar, with help from the small assembled crew and one enormous camera.

   It didn’t stop me from having fun, though. With the freedom to roam that small room, I got busy talking to the crew members, and even got to learn a few little things about how it all worked.

   Clarissa was there, too, but I assumed that that was due to the previous day’s events. In hindsight, I knew that I had made a dangerous error, and Toby made no mistake in getting that message across. That entire evening was spent making apologies and trying to convince her that no such mistake would occur again. I considered myself lucky that I was able to attend her interview, but I made sure not to step out of line again. Thankfully, the room wasn’t busy, and the television crew were incredibly professional, so there was little to fear.

   Speaking of Clarissa, she was very much preoccupied with Toby. It was certainly new for me, since I had never really seen Clarissa guiding Toby like she did for me. I knew that it was something that happened a lot for the first few years after the war, but I assumed that Toby was past the learning stage. That wasn’t entirely correct, especially when it came to looking good for a camera. Toby was sat uncomfortably on a stool just about wide enough, keeping her position absolutely motionless as Clarissa applied walls of miracle potions and sprays to her face, even whilst having to speak with the crew members.

   Toby obviously let Clarissa take the lead in the area of her expertise, though on occasion she would question the need for the items being applied to her skin. She was, after all, not a Human. However, Clarissa was determined.

   “Hold still, Toby,” I heard her urging as I curiously wandered over. “Do you really want me to get it in your eye?”

   Toby grunted, but remained static. “I don’t understand the need, Clarissa, and I never have. I am not a Human, and so applying Human skin creams and Human eye shadow seems utterly pointless.”

   “Stop moaning.” Clarissa retorted convincingly.

   “I just question the necessity of it, Clarissa. What difference will it make to anybody watching?”

   Clarissa hummed and held a mirror up to Toby’s face. “A whole world of difference. Do you really want to appear on national television looking like you just got dragged through a hedge?”

   “No, but that’s not the point. I-”

   Toby was halted when Clarissa shushed her loudly. “Toby, trust me. Okay?”

   I could see that the trust was there, but Toby still looked displeased at being coated in creams and sprays. “I trust your expertise on this matter, Clarissa. Could you please bring me some water?”

   Clarissa left the mirror with Toby so that she could admire the subtle but effective change to her appearance, and went away to fetch water. I moved closer to Toby and could not resist a giggle at her annoyance and the situation itself. To be fair, though, she did look younger, and her skin seemed somewhat softer and cleaner.

   She looked to me, but instead of the embarrassment I was expecting, she smirked and said, “At least I didn’t let her take my fingernails.”

   I stopped laughing and shrunk back, ashamed as I looked upon my own blunted claws. I quickly avoided that conversation. “When do you start, Toby?”

   “Soon,” She answered, putting down the mirror and sitting up straight and tall. I noticed the large camera being wheeled into position behind us. “We just have to wait for our introduction. There isn’t too much work to do here.”

   “You never told me what the discussion was about.” I muttered, having only just started to wonder.

   “The discussion? Oh,” Toby said, scratching at her neck and pulling off a slight layer of a strange green substance that she proceeded to throw into the nearest trash can from her seated position. “It is meant to be a discussion on environmental issues regarding the park. I am supposed to be debating a man called Kevin Hovack, who is a lobbyist for a multi-million dollar corporation based in New York, and also a member of APHR – Americans for the Priority of Human Rights.”

   “Americans for the Priority of Human Rights?” I repeated. “I don’t understand…”

   “As their name suggests, they do not necessarily see alien presence on their planet as a benefit. They try to push bills that will limit our rights, claiming that they infringe on their own. They issue those bills both on the local and the national level, and they are very vocal, as you will see.”

   I clutched at my tail, affected by a swift change of mood. “Do our rights really infringe on theirs?”

   Worryingly, Toby paused and glanced down to the carpet flooring. “It is debateable, especially in our case. The APHR criticise our presence and the amount of rights that we have, though they usually concentrate their efforts on the Andalites, mostly because they are more widespread and can infiltrate Human society.”

   “What is debateable about our rights?” I asked of her.

   She opened her mouth to respond, but two syllables in she was interrupted as one of the crew members yelled out the words, “Segment is about to begin! Positions!”

   Toby shrugged, and offered to tell me more about it later. “Go on,” She continued. “You can’t be standing here when the camera is on.”

   I retreated from her designated area, backing away slowly as the concept of a disapproving group of people unravelled in my head. Suddenly, I found myself pondering every aspect of how I lived, and how my family lived, in an attempt to discover why we would face such opposition. I must have been stood contemplating for a long while, because by the time I had awoken from the trance, the news segment was already underway. Toby was waiting to be introduced.

   The screen beside the desk of knobs and levers was lit, angled so that both we and Toby could see, and it displayed what I knew to be the news segment that was shown live all the way from New York. The studio on that screen, where I really wished to go, was vivid in colour – red, white and blue – and the camera was in the midst of a long-range shot that brought attention to a young blonde Human female sat behind a huge rounded desk. She held a pad of paper in her hands, but didn’t appear to be reading from it, preferring to smile invitingly for the audience. An audience, I understood, to be vast.

   The interview would be aired nationwide, and available worldwide for billions of Humans to see. Everything from personality to appearance was held to such a high standard, and the consequence of the discussion would potentially have such an impact on public opinion…

   And Toby was completely unfazed. She was sat on her stool, casually adjusting her tail and picking another form of cream from her finger nails. For a second she caught my gaze, and she smiled as if to say, _“Start taking notes.”_

   I was certainly taking mental notes, but with so much going on within my head at the time, I found it incredibly difficult. I was still struggling with the idea of a group of Humans that disapproved of our rights, and with the sheer scale of what could be done in just this tiny room, with Toby’s message broadcast to so many ears.

   I shook my head and gulped from a bottle of water as soon as Clarissa returned and placed it into my hand. She grinned up to me and patted my arm. “You ready, Taku?”

   “Ready?” I asked once I had finished swallowing the cooling liquid.

   “You’ve never seen one of Toby’s ‘discussions’ before? After the amount that she’s done? She’s great with them,” She nodded towards the television screen, just as the anchor was introducing the guests. “This will be fun.”

   “I hope so,” I said, putting on my optimistic voice. “I’d like to see how it’s done.”

   “Yeah,” Clarissa agreed, averting her gaze towards Toby. “Because that will be _you_ someday.”

   To be perfectly honest, I didn’t know what to think about that. In a way, it filled me with great dread, and for a just a fraction of a second it felt like the bulky camera was actually resting its robotic gaze on _me_. Clarissa must have noticed my growing anxiety, and she tugged on my elbow blade to guide my vision to the television screen again.

   The camera now showed the blonde female anchor up close, and her words pervaded my senses at just the right time.

   She spoke with confidence and poise. “… with recent discussion centred around how the local wildlife is affected by population growth. Joining me now to discuss the issues is Kevin Hovack, a leading spokesman for Fuller Industries and editor for the New York Times.”

   The camera shot to the host’s left, and the man I presumed to be Mr Hovack came into view. He looked like many other Humans that I had come across: well-clothed, perhaps slightly overweight, his medium-length black hair slicked back subtly, and he wore a welcoming smile. He nodded to the camera when it illuminated him.

   I took note of Toby’s expression when he appeared. She remained emotionless and still.

   The host continued, “We also have Professor Don Wakefield, professor of environmental sciences at Stanford University and author of the book _Pollution and You: Why we must do something now_.”

   An older male appeared next – Don Wakefield - wearing a light brown jacket and a thick pair of spectacles. His hair was wiry and grey.

   “And joining us live from the nation’s capital is Governor Toby Hamee, representative for the Hork-Bajir people on Earth.”

   Toby’s face flashed onto the screen, down to her upper chest, and she was surrounded by the strangely convincing backdrop. It must have felt strange for her to be gazing at herself on the screen, especially with the slight delay.

   “Now, Mr Hovack,” The blonde host addressed, swivelling in her seat to talk to him directly. “You recently made some statements in an op-ed piece for the New York Times about Yellowstone National Park, and a lot of the readers found the content to be pretty controversial.”

   “Yes, Nicole.” Kevin agreed, nodding.

   “You suggested that the presence of Hork-Bajir in certain areas is negatively affecting some animals, some plants, and is actually pretty bad for the area in general.”

   “Yes, I did. But, Nicole, I’d like to clarify something, especially to the viewers out there who actually took offense at what I had to say,” He cleared his throat. “I mean, a lot of the criticisers out there are accusing me of some kind of racism towards the Hork-Bajir, or whatever you would call it. That is silly. I’m merely looking at the facts, just as anybody would, to find the best answers to the situations occurring right now and in the future. Sometimes, people won’t like the solutions, and sometimes they don’t even like the problem simply being pointed out, and I find it absurd that I’m being criticised for just making observations and having the gall to care for our planet!”

   Toby was still completely unbroken. She must have been awaiting her turn to speak, but she was showing no impatience, and nor did she show any effect born of what he had said. The host, for the while, was still addressing Mr Hovack.

   “You gave some statistics in your New York Times piece,” She offered, glancing briefly at her papers. “And it was mostly to do with the Hork-Bajir populations.”

   Mr Hovack nodded heavily. “Hork-Bajir numbers have been skyrocketing since the war ended, and not just from here on Earth. We still import hundreds of Hork-Bajir from distant planets, in distant galaxies, every year! And as each year goes by, that population has risen and risen, and the space available has gotten smaller and smaller. Yellowstone, in a few years, will not be able to contain the population!”

   Now I could see that Toby was itching to respond, and the host (who I now knew to be called Nicole) offered her the floor. “Governor Hamee, I’m sure your predictions aren’t quite the same as those given in Mr Hovack’s comments. Comments such as this:” She lifted her papers and read, “‘ _It may take several years, but at current rates we could see the Hork-Bajir population outgrow Yellowstone and stretch into neighbouring states, leaving in their trail destroyed trees and destabilised ecosystems, being not so much a profit-maker but a pest._ ’ Governor, how do you respond to the statements made in Mr Hovack’s article?”

   “The comments given in Mr Hovack’s opinion piece are misguided,” She stated bluntly. “He has brought up several statistics that have shown previously to be erroneous, and-”

   “Which statistics?” Mr Hovack interrupted, his smile already vanished. “You can’t just claim that all my statistics are wrong, Governor. Which statistics are you talking about?”

   “I was just getting to that,” She explained. “You bring up several different statistics, most of which are incorrect, but too numerous for me to dismiss all within the time we have here. I will go over the worst ones.”

   “Go ahead.” Mr Hovack allowed, though in disapproving tone.

   “Your article,” Toby began. “Bases much of its conclusions on Hork-Bajir population growth, and the main statistic that you bring up is an annual increase of the Hork-Bajir population of sixty-three percent. This number is highly misleading.”

   Mr Hovack looked annoyed. “Are you telling me that the number is false, Governor?”

   “That number was correct in the year 2003,” Toby said. “But the reason that-”

   “So that number is _not_ misleading, Governor Hamee!” Mr Hovack asserted. “I took my statistics from highly reputable papers, from some of the top researchers in this country! If you have a problem with the numbers, you can take that up with Harvard. You can take that up with Yale. These are _solid facts_!”

   I was getting anxious. Kevin Hovack was certainly vocal, as Toby had warned, and part of me imagined Toby backing down, losing her patience or conceding to his conclusions. However, as I looked at her face, first directly within the room and then on the television screen (which now just showed the opposing pair in a split-screen), I saw no fear and no impatience. Annoyance at being interrupted, perhaps, but nothing to set off the panic alarms just then.

   “Please, do not interrupt me, Mr Hovack,” She requested calmly. “I must point out that the sixty-three percent increase in the year 2003 was mostly due to the import of Hork-Bajir who had been brought to Earth from Yeerk bases on far distant planets. Since the war ended, Humans and Andalites have decided that all Hork-Bajir found in ex-Yeerk bases and anywhere else in space, with the exception of our home world and surrounding territories, are to be brought to Earth. 2003 was the peak year for imports, and in the years since, that statistic has decreased significantly to the point where imports have little to no effect on population growth.”

   “Governor,” Mr Hovack began again, with no hesitation after Toby’s last sentence. “We cannot ignore the fact that the Hork-Bajir numbers have been rapidly increasing, and imports are a big part of that.”

   “Not anymore,” Toby said. “And if we take a look at the statistics for population growth, excluding imports as a factor, the population has only been growing at a very slow rate. The peak increase due to breeding was twenty-two percent back in 2002, and that was no doubt due to the panic that my people had to repopulate after the war ended. I-”

   “Governor! The population is still-”

   “May I finished what I’m saying, Mr Hovack?!”

   At that point, the tempers were beginning to rise, and the host rightly jumped in to separate the two. “Can I just…” There were some more overlapping voices, but they quickly subsided. “Can I just split you two up for a moment to bring in Professor Wakefield, Sanford professor of environmental sciences?”

   Toby and Kevin agreed, and allowed a third voice to enter once the host had given him the invitation in the form of a question.

   “Professor,” She said. “There’s obviously a lot of discussion and finger-pointing on this, and I’m sure you’ve put some thought into this yourself. Could you shed some light on this situation? Do Hork-Bajir numbers really threaten the environment?”

   The professor spoke in a deep, monotonous voice, “Well, Nicole, it’s rarely, if ever, a black or white situation when you’re discussing, uh, population dynamics or the effects that one group will have on another. Everything is so finely intertwined,” He demonstrated it by locking his fingers together. “Knotted here and there. Essentially everywhere. Even the smallest of factors can have a huge butterfly effect. So of course the Hork-Bajir will have an impact on where they live, whether it be beneficial or not, because they are not living in a void but in the natural world! As for population size, it’s, um, very difficult for us to tell at this stage. It’s been nine, maybe ten years since we first met properly as a species, and many of those years were spent adjusting, finding a home, giving them space and giving them the rights that any sentient race deserves. We _have_ seen the population increase, but as the Governor has mentioned, the causes for that increase are inconsistent, and we cannot yet jump to conclusions.”

   “But professor,” Mr Hovack chimed in, directly facing the scientist. “There have been numerous papers in recent years that have been investigating this very problem, and most, if not all agree that we have a big problem on our hands!”

   Professor Wakefield nodded. “There have been papers, but there is no consensus. As I explain, we cannot make conclusions when our factors thus far are inconsistent and likely to provide unreliable results. What I don’t want to happen here, in general, is that we begin to talk of the Hork-Bajir as if they were some animal. They can speak back to us, and they can reason with us, and so if there _is_ a problem, we don’t want to bring down their quality of life. We can work together as friends to bring about a reasonable solution.”

   Toby broke her extended silence. “We currently have several research groups addressing the issue of breeding, and they are actively discussing these issues directly with my people. It is generally true that a Hork-Bajir _kalashi_ and _kalashu_ pair will only have two children, and from what I have so far seen, the research backs that up. Our creators placed us on an uninhabited landscape, with no predators, no prey, and they had the right mind to make us so that we were sustainable. Despite having no competition for land or food, my people rarely faced overpopulation on the home world, if the stories of our ancestors are true. The limited number of children we have is an in-built method for keeping our numbers consistent.”

   “Are you trying to tell me, Governor,” Mr Hovack began. “That you are going to wave off this issue because you believe stories told by your people, saying that the Hork-Bajir never overpopulated? Do they even know what that _means_?!”

   Toby looked hurt, but still totally serious. She hid any negative emotions well, still. “Mr Hovack, please don’t mock my people.”

   “Mock?” He countered. “Who’s mocking anybody?! The fact is, Governor, I quoted, in the article I wrote for the New York Times, from four published scientific papers which unanimously state, contrary your people’s farfetched stories, that there is a problem!”

   Toby narrowed her eyes and gave a cold stare that made even Mr Hovack lips twitch. She had a trap set in her mind.

   “Mr Hovack, could you tell me the names of the scientists who wrote those papers?” She requested.

   “Does it matter?”

   “Yes.”

   Mr Hovack backed away slightly, and then replied in a calmer voice. “Two of the papers were written by Schmeichel and Walton, both geneticists. The 2009 paper was by a Professor Singh of Harvard University, and the other paper was by Hudson, Holmes and Garrison back in 2008.”

   “And what do all of those men have in common, Mr Hovack?” Toby pressed.

   “That they’re all qualified scientists in top universities?” He offered. “What’s your point, Governor?”

   “They are all reported members of anti-alien groups, such as LEA or APHR. And you, yourself, are a known member of the APHR, a group that has consistently fought against the rights of extra-terrestrials on Earth. The papers that you site were written by people who don’t want us there, and I might also add that all four of those papers have been subject to rigorous scrutiny after alleged malpractice in how they actually got published. I suspect-”

   “That’s nonsense, Governor,” Mr Hovack protested, shaking his head in disbelief. “They’re only being investigated because people don’t want to accept what’s really going on!”

   The host intervened again, slowing things before they took off. She had to fight her way through Toby’s next rebuttal as it was about to begin. “I just want to mention, before I let you at each other’s throats, that the Governor of Wyoming has recently made way for expansion of the Hork-Bajir territory up to the Montana border, and there is the possibility that Montana will begin to allow the Hork-Bajir to cross that border to reach the northernmost areas of the park. Is this something, Mr Hovack, that you are wary of? Does this say something to you about the spread of the Hork-Bajir?”

   “It certainly does, Nicole. Not one year has gone by when the Hork-Bajir territory hasn’t been expanded, and I don’t see that trend ending. And that’s even if the local governments and state governments don’t allow it. The Hork-Bajir will spread even if we tell them not to.”

   Toby spoke up instantaneously. “And what would be your solution, Mr Hovack?”

   He flustered, and stuttered indecisively before shrugging. “I don’t know, Governor. Why should I be the one to come up with the solutions? _You’re_ the Hork-Bajir governor, so you are far more responsible than I am for keeping them under control! You’re the one who has so far neglected to consider the rights of Humans who live in these areas, and who have lost land and trees because of these expansions!”

   “Believe me, Mr Hovack,” Toby huffed. “If anybody was negatively affected by the presence of my people, I would be the first to know. As of yet, all the claims of people who have been disadvantaged by Hork-Bajir have been fraudulent.”

   “That’s not what I’ve heard, Governor.”

   “Of course not.” Toby replied distastefully. “APHR makes certain of that. Let’s not forget, Nicole, and everybody who is watching this, that the APHR - the group that Mr Kevin Hovack associates with - has historically been the forum of the vast majority of Humans who have incited or performed violence against my people. The murder of three in Southern Yellowstone last year was committed by one of the APHR’s leading members. This is a group that actively wishes to take away our rights and-”

   “How dare you, Governor!” Mr Hovack spat. “How dare you slander all of those people who truly care for our environment! How dare you tarnish the name of a group of people who just want the best for our great nation! You should be ashamed of your words!”

   From nowhere, the professor spoke up for only the second time. “If I could just come in here, hopefully without getting ripped to shreds,” Everybody had a small chuckle at that particular comment. It helped to lighten the mood. “The reason that the Hork-Bajir territory is expanding is not because they no longer have room to live, but because our races are indeed allies, and the Hork-Bajir are in need while their own planet is being repaired. We don’t want to be the ally who keeps their friend locked in a cage. We want to see them thrive. _I_ would love to see them thrive, not only for the aesthetics, but because they actually provide some benefit, both economically and for the environment.”

   Mr Hovack wanted to argue, and started to, only for the host to call an end to the segment.

   “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for,” She said, speaking over Mr Hovack to slow him down. “I’m sure that this conversation will continue, and of course you can also have your say online, just go to…”

   She began to list some website and a few other links. Meanwhile, I watched Toby as she went through the process of calming. She had closed her eyes, motionless.

   The segment ended, and Toby’s camera was shut off. She immediately arose from her stool, stretched her legs, and took a huge gulp of water (which included two entire bottles). As calm as when the discussion started, the governor strolled over to stand with myself and Clarissa.

   I didn’t know what to say, because it was not what I had expected at all. It was amazing to me how Toby was still so composed.

   “Shall we get ourselves something to eat?” She offered to me. I gave her back nothing more than a nod.

 

   We were kindly allowed to have a meal in the building before we left for the hotel. Toby and I were treated to a small but intriguing selection of barks in the main dining hall, along with a few important Humans who happened to work closely with Toby, and they welcomed me with open arms and the curiosity I had come to expect. One of them was another member of the House of Representatives, somebody who my fellow seer knew very well.

   They congratulated Toby on her segment with FOX news and told her that she did a good job. In private, she told me that she was a little disappointed with her own performance, that she gave her opponent too much room and that she held back for fear of seeming rude. She said that it still didn’t come naturally after all those years.

   A couple hours later, the dining hall was much quieter. Clarissa, who had been sat with us the entire time, had spotted a previous acquaintance and had run off to meet them, leaving us two Hork-Bajir to ourselves and near-empty bowls of Redwood bark (a new favourite of mine).

   “I would like to take some of this back for my family,” I said about the new bark as I held a small piece between my fingers. “It’s delicious! I’m sure they would love it.”

   Toby chuckled. “Redwood is a very nice species of tree. They are huge, much like those back on the home world, and just as tasty.”

   “Do they have any more to give us?”

   “You’ll have to ask our hosts,” She answered. “I’m sure that, even if they had no more, they would be able to send some to our office in Yellowstone. I will make sure of it.”

   I smiled and dropped the bark onto my tongue, feeling the flavour ooze over it. Upon swallowing it, and shivering with delight at the spectacular aftertaste, an unwelcomed thought that I had dreamt up earlier flew back into my mind. In a quieter setting, with just her ears to hear, I picked up the courage I needed. “I wanted to ask something, Toby. Something about the interview.”

   She looked to me curiously. “Yes?”

   “Are there people out there who will want to hurt me?”

   Any triviality dropped from Toby’s face, and she was instantaneously _Toby the seer_ again, all seriousness and no fun to be had. “Why do you ask such a question?”

   “You mentioned violence,” I recalled. “Something about some of our people being killed. Murdered, I think you said.”

   Toby sighed lightly and took my hand reassuringly. “That was an incident that happened last year. It is nothing to concern yourself about.”

   “Does it happen a lot?” I asked.

   She didn’t want to answer, but she was not going to hide this particular truth from me. “Rarely. It has happened on a few occasions. Mostly they are not fatal, though, unfortunately, some are.”

   “And who does it?” I pressed. “Is it people like Mr Hovack who do that?”

   “Mr Hovack would not do anything like that. He may be obnoxious, but he would not harm us physically,” She replied warily. “But there are some like him that would definitely want to cause us harm, for one reason or another. The APHR has been known to attract a few of those sorts, and they do very little to disassociate. Perhaps I went a bit far with what I said, but it is certainly true to an extent.”

   I dipped my head and tapped a finger on the table before us, still puzzled in many ways. “Is it truly the way Mr Hovack makes it seem? Is it because of overpopulation or damage?”

   “It is never easy to say,” She uttered as she stared away into the distance. “For some, that is a big issue, but it should not bring about the vitriol that some Humans hold. For a lot of them, it just seems to be the way that they see us. Humans even hold such fears of other Humans who have different languages or ethnicities, so it is not surprising that some see us as a target for their anger,” She chuckled bitterly. “I hate criticising Humans like this, after all they have done for us, but sometimes it cannot be avoided.”

   “So you’re saying that some dislike us for no particular reason?”

   Toby paused to contemplate the question, looking for some kind of explanation. “I would prefer not to say that there is no reason. Some religious groups, for example, see us as demonic. Evil beings, something akin to creatures in their texts. Others think that there is some conspiracy afoot, that we’re the _lizard people_ here to bring about a new world order. Some say we’re just generally infiltrating and plan to destroy humanity. Some…” She looked directly at me. “Have you heard of the Hanslett Incident?”

   “No.” I replied.

   She sat up straight, and I knew that she would begin to explain in good detail. “The Hanslett Incident occurred in Oregon at the very end of the war. There was a Yeerk base hidden underground, beneath a large warehouse that belonged to a company called Hanslett & Sons. It was only small, containing about fifty Human controllers and nineteen Hork-Bajir controllers at the time. The base’s location was received by the Human militaries that were out to secure Yeerk strongholds and free the hosts within. The military were mostly successful in their raids. There were few casualties across the nation, but the operation carried out beneath the Hanslett building became headline news for tragic reasons, and resulted in several new laws and worldwide controversy.”

   “So what happened?” I pushed impatiently.

   “The Human in charge of the Hanslett operation was one Lieutenant Benjamin Matthews. When they arrived at the Yeerk base, they ordered for surrender, saying that they had the base surrounded. Of course, with the mother ship gone, with no orders from above and no chance of winning, the Yeerks eventually gave in, and all weapons were confiscated. Matthew’s troops entered the base, rounded up the controllers, rounded up the hosts, and everything was going as normal. The Yeerks were leaving their hosts, and they complied with every order they were given. Matthew’s troops then entered the base to clear things up, and reports say that he started to separate the freed hosts and the remaining controllers into two groups: Human and Hork-Bajir. He allowed his men to continue liberating the Humans, but ordered the Hork-Bajir to a corner. Everybody assumed that it was a safety procedure, but then he told his men to open fire.”

   That put me off of my bark, and I dropped a piece back into the bowl. “He killed them?”

   Toby nodded. “Every single one. His troops had to obey his order, but even they didn’t feel it was right. The military were originally given orders to liberate and contain the Hork-Bajir until it was decided where they would go, but he ignored that order. He didn’t like the look of them, so he slaughtered them.”

   “Where is he now?”

   Toby stiffened briefly. “Not in prison. There were no laws at the time regarding the Hork-Bajir. We were not Humans, and many made the argument that we weren’t technically animals. We were objects, and so he received no repercussions other than those he suffered from ignoring orders. However, the public backlash eventually caused him to quit his position, and he left the military as a disgrace. In too many ways, the incident was tragic, but I will always remember how the Humans came to our defence on that issue, even though they knew nothing of us at the time. That gave me a lot of hope.”

   I joined her in silent mourning. After what had been an uplifting day, it was strange for it to come to an end on such a crippling and disheartening note. It made me realise something, though. I still knew very little about the people that I had been spending most of my time with, and not everything that I uncovered about them gave me confidence in my surroundings. I was in a dangerous place, but even knowing that cured nothing, because the danger was hidden behind the eyes of strangers who walked the corridors of the buildings that I frequented, and the towns that I slept in. If it weren’t for Toby or Clarissa, I would be all alone in a world of mystery, and it was only them that could rein me in wherever I took a misstep. Those missteps, I realised, could have consequences much more severe than I previously thought.

   I didn’t sleep at all that night.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

   Things became much, much busier since that bizarre trip to Washington D.C.. It was like a great explosion that occurred right beneath my feet that urged me to hold steady while the debris slashed and slammed over every inch of my body. I managed, to the best of my knowledge.

   I was deemed to be ready, or as ready as I could be at such an age. Responsibility was finally gifted to me, and I suddenly found myself spending more time in the Yellowstone office building than anywhere else. I worked in Toby’s office, sorting files and handling a number of documents relating to the parks media relations. Essentially, I was given the strenuous duty of telling people whether or not they could broadcast from the park, when and where they could do it, and at what times. Due to the everlasting popularity of the location and its inhabitants, I was frequently meeting people who wished to perform activities in our home.

   It was certainly tough, but I always knew that it would be. I felt prepared enough beforehand, and it showed when I took the job in my stride. There was an initial learning period, obviously, where I would have to bring in others to aid me, but after a couple of months I knew the routine well enough to tackle it solo.

   The job really helped me to learn, much more so than I could have foreseen, and I was steadily getting to know Humans on a more general level. I was interacting with the other workers here, mostly Jon and Jason, the two that I had met on my first visit. It was intriguing to listen in on my co-workers conversations, and oftentimes disturbing. I tried to push negativity aside, but at the same time I found it hard to fit in with them, their discussions so different to those in Hork-Bajir circles.

   Everyone seemed to understand. Being of two different races, there would be debilitating gaps between us, and we didn’t let them get in the way. I had good friends there, and their presence aided the job greatly.

   I was almost two years old. That was the time where my short child life had ended, and the long, though equally rewarding life as an adult began. I was at full height, full width. The blades on my arms and legs were noticeably bigger, longer and thicker at the base, while those on my head raked forward elegantly. Aside, I was slowing down - or rather calming – no longer in need of the energy of a child. Most of the time out of work was utilised gathering bark for the family and socialising with the locals.

   Lenk was becoming more and more vacant from our home tree. He had been off searching for the perfect tree to call his own with an eventual _kalashi._

Meanwhile, I had a new home of my own.

   The Sun was just peering over the tree tops as I headed to our harvestings grounds for the season. At the base of the dense patch of trees I threw myself up from the floor to pinch myself around the nearest trunk. Then I moved onwards in search of those I would spend the early morning with.

   Pluk and Ruga had grown, too, and they hadn’t really changed at all, aside from being just that little bit taller. I didn’t see them as often as I would have liked, but it was always a good occasion when we did. Not only that, but I was beginning to know more people from a wider range, and we would often travel together to see different, unexplored areas of the park.

   “Taku back.” Pluk greeted as I swept up into their tree, grabbing onto a steady branch and hanging loosely from it.

   Ruga turned at the intrusion and uttered the same statement. They both appeared pleased to see me. It had been at least two days, and that was an abnormally long time to not see them.

   “Hello,” I said. “I’m sorry that I’ve been away again.”

   “Taku busy,” Ruga replied acceptingly. “Taku go to Humans. Taku different.”

   Pluk nodded, agreeing. “Taku different, so go.”

   I smiled, happy that they were as understanding as they always were. Then, I noticed what they had been doing with their time, and started to join them as they stripped bark casually from the trees they were sitting in.

   Today, however, it was not just the three of us. Sat between them, watching me silently was Relk, the young female who I had previously had little contact with, other than wrongfully teasing her as a small, naïve child. She was also an adult now, and though I had previously made fun of her for her rather awkward appearance, she was now an exceptionally attractive individual. Her blades were distinctively clean and sharp, her tail long and of a perfect shape. Her snout, which I once thought abnormally large, was now one of her greatest features.

   I started to feel strange about her. I couldn’t explain it, but it seemed to coincide with my ascent into adulthood. Her feelings were still a mystery to myself and my friends, but we were more than happy to allow her to be with us, as we would be with any Hork-Bajir.

   For an hour, the four of us moved slowly through the patch of trees, tactically stripping bark and gathering it in a makeshift basket as we went along. Others would come and go, but our core group remained.

   But I had little time for these kinds of activities anymore, and soon I began to raise that point when I thought of returning to work. I had much to do.

   I sat back on a thick branch and put my stripped bark to one side. “I will have to go soon.” I told them while they stood in close proximity.

   Ruga grunted at me, unsatisfied as he paused his own work. “Taku go again? Taku stay.”

   “I’m sorry. I need to get back. I’m not supposed to be back here anyway.”

   Pluk was equally disappointed. “Not see Taku anymore. Want Taku stay.”

   “I wish I could stay,” I sighed. “I really do, but I have much to do. I have a meeting with somebody who wishes to film in the park, and nobody else is in to see them. And…” A smile crept onto my face, which my friends were quick to notice.

   “Why Taku smile?” Relk questioned, peeking over from around her trunk.

   It still seemed so strange to be talking to her, and I always put that down to guilt for what I had said to her so long ago. I never truly apologised to her, and though I felt such a need to, the knowledge that she would have probably forgotten it all made it seem so awkward. It’s not like a Hork-Bajir to hold a grudge at all, but my exposure to Humans was changing my basic instincts. It was uneasy talking to her, knowing that I had hurt her in the past.

   “Today is the day,” I began cheerfully. “That I get my own office! All to myself.”

   The three looked between themselves, and between them said, “Office?”

   “What is office?” Pluk asked curiously.

   Ruga attempted to answer his question, gazing thoughtfully upwards. “Office is Human tree. Where Human go.”

   “Human tree…” Pluk pondered. Then, he laughed. “Humans not live in trees!”

   “Do!” Ruga countered with conviction. “Live in big square trees!”

   “Have strange leaves,” Relk added unhelpfully. “Relk try to eat. Taste bad. Hard.”

   I shook my head and hid a chuckle. “An office is where a Human works,” I informed them. “Where I work. They are not trees, even though I wish that they were.”

   “So not tree.” Pluk summarised. Ruga grumbled.

   “No,” I concluded. “That is where I will be doing my duties for the Humans. I will have my own desk, my own chair, my own window, and…”

   Already I had lost them. They gawked at me, puzzled, and I stopped when I realised that perhaps I was getting a little overexcited. I lowered my head, embarrassed but still giddy. Proceeding to simplify what I was saying wasn’t going to work, and I soon resigned to the idea that they simply wouldn’t understand the meaning of picture frames or telephones or notepads.

   “Pluk want to see office!” He said, slowly shaking his branch up and down.

   “I would love to show you, but I can’t.” I said regretfully, wondering why I bothered to mention it in the first place.

   “Why can’t?” Relk whined.

   “The Humans won’t let you into the building. I’m sorry.”

   The three looked amongst themselves, and one of those rare moments occurred when I couldn’t read their expressions and approximately judge their next actions. The answer I eventually received from Ruga was relieving.

   “Okay. Taku come back later?”

   I nodded reassuringly. “I will. Leave some good trunks for me, won’t you?”

   They laughed mischievously, and I had my answer to that. I grumbled, but said my goodbyes to them as I set back off in the opposite direction.

   I had little choice but to sprint, knowing that there was a good possibility of being late. It didn’t make the journey any less pleasant, and I arrived at my destination in a great mood, still so eager to set my eyes on my completed place of work. My feet thumped onto the road surface of the car park just behind the building, and I wandered around to the front with a cautious pace, lest I contact somebody rushing around the next corner.

   Things were much different now since the first time I entered the curious landmark. Not aesthetically, but the atmosphere seemed so changed. I was actively greeted by everybody there, and I knew almost every detail of every room so that I stroll casually and know exactly where to go. Strange how knowing a place makes it look so different, even when nothing has actually changed.

   The tinted blue glass and high ceiling, as well as all of the modern Human architecture and technology was all cosily familiar, and, like the Humans, welcomed me into a warm embrace.

   My office was on the second floor, at the very end by the drinks dispenser (not coincidentally). On the way I would pass by a host of other offices and a tiny lounge, consisting of two cushy chairs and a small coffee table with an even smaller water cooler.

   Jason and Jonathan were there. As per usual. I wondered if they ever did any work. As I appeared moving up towards them, Jonathan was quick to call me over.

   “Hey, Taku!” He welcomed. “Where’ve you been? It’s nearly 3PM!”

   Having no room to sit down, and since neither of them wanted to give up a seat, I stood before the coffee table, looking down on them. “I thought I would take a break. Sorry if I missed anything.”

   Jonathan giggled and sat forward with hands clasped. “Nothing, actually. Except your new office!”

   I smiled. It was an event that they also knew of. “Can I go in yet?”

   Jason answered, unmistakably calm and confident. “Last touches done just over an hour ago. It’s all ready.”

   Looking to my right, I could see the door from a tight angle just before the water cooler. My nerves bubbled excitedly, and I felt curiosity pulling me towards it. “I think I’ll take a look. Then maybe prepare for my three-thirty meeting with Mr Saxton.”

   Unsatisfied with viewing from a distance, Jonathan bolted upwards and insisted, “Come on, let’s go see Mr Kelmut’s new office!”

   He adjusted his glasses and his bright red tie, and bounded out in front of me, waving to follow. Jason, as ever, followed coolly behind, bemoaning Jonathan for his unnecessary pace. I joined alongside him.

   “Have you seen it?” I asked him as we caught up to Jonathan.

   Jason shrugged. “Bits of it. They were moving furniture in this morning. You got nice things.”

   I grinned. “That sounds good.”

  “Custom stuff,” Jason added when we stopped outside of the door, with Jonathan standing beside like an awkward ornament. “They want you to be as comfortable as possible. It’s not often they make offices for _seers._ ”

   It certainly wasn’t, considering our apparent rarity. I was most certainly fervent to see these custom features, but the door itself excited me enough. It was ordinary enough, being just a plain office door with a narrow, vertical rectangular window, but the sight of my name on a black plaque – Mr Taku Kelmut – made the whole event more real. I was very subtly bouncing on my feet.

   “Well, Taku,” Jonathan said to break a nervy silence. “You going to open it and see?”

   I shook my head and my gaze from my own name and uttered “Oh, yeah,” under my breath. I reached forward, and with two fingers pulled down the door handle. With little effort I pushed it open, and the stench of new furniture poured over us instantly.

   The first thing that struck was the overall green-ness of the room. It was awash with plants, placed strategically around the confines of the office and adding some much-needed colour. A couple of flowers were sprinkled here and there, mixing deftly with the scents radiating from new air fresheners. The flooring was a light brown colour, almost white, and that theme was continued up the walls and to the ceiling, interrupted by two large windows on either side of the central desk.

   The desk itself was also new, and built with sturdy, extra-thick faux wood material, topped with a couple of its own small potted plants and a stack of shelves for my files. A laptop sat in the middle, closed for now and allowing the sight of a black chair. A custom one.

   The walls were bare, but I knew that they wouldn’t be for long.

   “Wow, Taku,” Jonathan gasped. “Were you planning on living here or something?”

   I chuckled. “Near enough. I plan to spend a lot of my time in here.”

   I entered first, and the pair followed afterwards to do some more in-depth exploration. My first point of interest was the custom chair, and I pulled it carefully from beneath the desk to look a little closer. Just as I had wanted, it granted plenty of room for my tail, which had always been an obstacle when sitting in any Human building. It looked even roomier than Toby’s.

   “Impressed?” Jason asked, once he had inspected a potted fern.

   I definitely was, and I confirmed it with a nod. “I can’t wait to start moving my stuff in. I’ll do that tomorrow, I think. There isn’t much on my schedule.”

   Jason grinned and leant up against the desk. “You’re becoming more like Toby every day. You know that?”

   “I am?” I coughed, unusually concerned by the statement. “Oh. Is that bad?”

   Jonathan answered cautiously, “Not really. She’s just…”

   “She’s a workaholic.” Jason finished for him.

   “A work-a-what?”

   “Workaholic,” Jason reiterated. “Somebody who enjoys work far too much.”

   “She enjoys it?” Jonathan muttered.

   Jason shrugged. “Maybe not _enjoys_ , but she’s addicted.”

   I shook my head defiantly and dropped my backside down into my new chair. “I’m not addicted. Most days, I just want to get away from it. Read a good book instead.

   “What book?” Jason asked.

   “It’s… Well, it’s the guide to making an effective spreadsheet on the computer.” I instantly realised that perhaps they were right.

   Jason laughed and removed himself from the desk. “Not even Jon would read something _that_ boring.”

   “What are you implying?” Jonathan huffed. “I don’t read boring books!”

   “Dude, you read the instruction manuals that come with household electronics,” Jason retorted. “In every single language.”

   I laughed. Even I didn’t read those. Jonathan straightened his posture defensively and snorted, but it was all in good nature. We spent a while moving things here and there to my liking, and a few minutes before I was meant to have a meeting, they left to get back to their own work. Whatever it was that they considered work…

   I sat back in my chair, letting my tail swing idly and comfortably behind, and embraced my new environment. I began to envisage a complete room, with my own achievements and merits hung upon the walls, with a compelling set of books lining the collection of shelves to the left of the door. I gazed at the personal water cooler and eventually poured myself a drink.

   Remembering that I had left a bag of items downstairs, I retrieved it and found enough time to place a few items close to me. My picture frame of Mother and Father, of course, sat on my desk, beside Clarissa’s encyclopaedia. I hadn’t had much chance to read it lately, what with being so busy. Currently, I was reading about the two world wars, but it had been so long since I last read that I was thinking of re-reading to refresh my limited knowledge.

   With two minutes to spare before Mr Saxton was due to arrive, and in the midst of pouring myself some more water, I heard a bang from outside of the window, followed by a scraping noise. Puzzled, I raised myself and leaned over to find whatever had caused the disturbance.

   It came as a great shock to see none other than Ruga staring back up at me from below the window. He was clung to the side of the building, peeking up through the glass.

   “Ruga?!” I gasped. “What are you doing?”

   He smiled wide and lifted himself higher. “Find Taku!” He cheered. “Find Taku office!”

   His presence meant that the others were here, too, and I opened the window wide to search for them as I berated my misguided friend. “Ruga, you shouldn’t be here,” I urged. “I have a meeting any minute now, and I shouldn’t be disturbed.”

   “Mee-ting?” Ruga quizzed. “Ruga want to see.”

   “Sorry, Ruga, but-”

   “See Taku!” Came the voice of Relk. She appeared just over Ruga’s shoulder, crawling up the large panels that lined the sides of the building.

   “Yes, hello Relk.” I grumbled. “You two have to go. You can’t be here. And… Where’s Pluk?”

   “Pluk look for Taku,” Ruga informed flatly. “Say Taku in big Human tree. But say it not tree. Ruga think that it _like_ tree, but not tree…”

   I held my head, and frantically monitored for the missing Pluk. “Okay, Ruga, I don’t need the details. Pleas, tell me where Pluk is. You shouldn’t be here.”

   Relk was visibly disappointed. “Taku not want to see friends?”

   “Of course,” I countered. “Just not right now.”

   I was so close to climbing from the window and physically shooing them off, but on the verge of that probably misguided idea, something tapped lightly on my office door. It was quiet but discreet, as Human knocks tended to be.

   My visitor had arrived, and precisely at the wrong time. I stumbled indecisively for a moment, half of me wanting to move my friends and the other half dutifully wanting to let him in.

   “He’s here,” I warned Ruga and Relk, who were still staring blankly up at me. “Please go, or at least wait for about thirty minutes or so.”

   Then I retreated from the window with intent to open the door, quickly realising that my friends likely didn’t know what minutes meant. I shook the doubt from my head and rushed over to the twice-knocked door.

   My brave face returned at just the right time as I opened up the door to the Human male in the light grey suit. He smiled widely up at me, a folder under his arm and a large, shining bald patch on the top of his head. An overpowering scent of deodorant invaded my nostrils, as did a deep sense of warning that this was indeed a man of influence in his field.

   I began the introductions. “Mr Saxton, good afternoon.” I said, offering a hand to shake.

   He stared down at my hand and quickly figured the best way to succeed in that particular formality. “And good afternoon to you, Mr Kelmut.”

   I welcomed him into my office by stepping aside, and I watched as he strolled in. He barely cast a glance around the room, and went straight for the desk where he should have been sitting. I notice a glaring error right there, made clear when he looked back to me expectantly.

   “Oh, sorry!” I gasped, highly embarrassed as I sniffed around for a Human chair. “I’ll get a seat for you, Mr Saxton.”

   He simply nodded, waiting patiently by the desk as I fumbled around the edges of my room in search of a chair. I found one, and hopefully just in time to rescue my composure. Setting it down beside him, I sat down in my own seat on the other side of the desk. Mr Saxton sat himself down and placed his folder on the wooden surface.

   “My apologies,” I said to him. “I’ve only just moved into this office. Not much time to prepare.”

   It was unprofessional, but thankfully he didn’t seem to mind. “That’s fine, Mr Kelmut!” He chuckled. “And I like the office. Very green…”

   I smiled, happy for some reassuring conversation. “My favourite colour.”

   Saxton coughed into his hand and shifted his seat forward, correcting his posture. “Mr Kelmut,” He started with a grin. “Do you watch much television?”

   Thrown back by the unusual question, I took a short while to react. “I watch some. I think I mostly watch _Animal Planet_ …”

   “Well, Mr Kelmut… Taku? Can I call you Taku?”

   “Of course you can.” I allowed.

   “Taku, I represent _CrescentCreations_. I’m sure that you’re familiar with us.” He informed, passing over a small brochure for me to inspect.

   “Yes,” I replied, glancing over the leaflet. “I have seen the name on a few productions. I hear that the company is interested in filming a documentary in our park.”

   Saxton winked, and sat back with a satisfied curling of the lips. “Not just the company, my friend. The whole world wants to learn more about our extra-terrestrial friends, and we at _CrescentCreations_ would love to provide the education and interest needed to help our races grow even closer.”

   I nodded, pulling up my notepad and scribbling down a few bullet points to summarise. “Who have you spoken to thus far?”

   He had already anticipated this question, and before I could finish asking he was pulling up a separate file of paper attached by a row of staples. He handed it over, saying, “Here is the list. We have spoken to directors, several networks, the owners of the park and… Well, pretty much everybody!”

   I flicked through the pages diligently, memorising the names of all those who had given CrescentCreations their approval, making note of anything I deemed important while Saxton sat back in his seat, casually twiddling his thumbs.

   “You have spoken to the admins?” I mumbled as I finished off my speed read.

   “We’ve spoken to everybody,” He reiterated. “And they’re all very excited about what we have planned!”

   “Have you spoken to Governor Hamee?” I pressed, placing down the file.

   Saxton shook his head. “No. Her secretary directed me to you, as the one in charge of media handling in this organisation.”

   I smiled, proud that I was finally being trusted with full control of my position. “Yes. The Governor’s signature is not necessary. Though, I always feel the need to take her advice. She has taught me a lot.”

   “I heard that she was training you.” Saxton said.

   “She is a very good teacher. I would trust her opinion more than anybody else’s.”

   Saxton nodded, but at the same time he bit his lip, his smile having vanished, and stared down at his files. “I’m sure that Toby would love to see her people get their message across. Let them speak to us as individuals. Everybody knows that the more we know somebody as a person, the more we care for their needs and desires.”

   “That is true,” I agreed. “But tell me, Mr Saxton-”

   “Dennis.”

   “Tell me, Dennis,” I corrected. “What kind of activities you would be doing to achieve this? What would your television production do?”

   He began his response, but just then I heard a short series of taps coming from the window. I stood from my seat, urged Mr Saxton to continue as it seemed that he was stopping, and went back over to the window. Still managing to listen intently, I peeked downwards to see Ruga and Relk still hanging on the wall outside.

   “...And it will offer a whole new perspective to Hork-Bajir life,” Dennis was saying. “We _know_ that the audience is there, because for so long now they have been asking for it.”

   “Tell me about who you will be filming, and how.” I requested. At the same time, I was silently trying to grab the attention of my two comrades, and hushing them as they began to laugh at some in-joke they were sharing.

   Dennis answered me. “Well, obviously, we would have to ask around, find a Hork-Bajir who wants to be filmed. It’s nothing too intrusive, just a couple hours, seeing what they do, getting their views on this and that. Get somebody who is maybe, you know, a little disadvantaged to get people on their side, raise a little money.”

   “A little disadvantaged?” I pressed, staring back at him and clutching my hands behind my back.

   “It could be somebody who lost a close one in the war,” He suggested with a shrug. “Some kid with a genetic deformity who can’t walk. Just something to get the tears flowing.”

   I considered it briefly. It was a tactic that I had noticed before on some shows, and means to get an audience to be more receptive to a victim. I felt fine with it, so long as the victim was actually disadvantaged. However, an issue did spring to mind.

   “What is the money raised for?”

   Mr Saxton grinned, and shuffled again in his seat. Meanwhile, I cringed as I heard my two friends becoming noisier outside. Mr Saxton explained, “Profit will be distributed fairly, I assure you. Of course, a portion will go towards _CrescentCreations_ , and the network.”

   “Will the park receive funding?” I asked, sitting carefully back down in my seat. “If this programme is meant to aid in the future of our people, I expect that some profit will go to the upkeep of our home.”

   “Well, obviously,” He replied with huffed laughter. “We wouldn’t do this without some money going to the park! We discussed this with the local government.” He proceeded to hand over another file, one that was fronted by a set of forms involving the company and the official owners of the park. It was a little more reassuring.

   “What percentage goes to the aid of our people?” I insisted, pressing for a straighter answer.

   Saxton shrugged again. “That is something that we are currently negotiating, Taku, but let me reassure you that the park _will_ get a fair cut of the profit.”

   Another bang rocked the side of my office, and I had had enough. I excused myself briefly from our discussion and stomped to the window.

   “Please,” I hissed down to the pair hanging just below. “Be quiet or leave. I am in the middle of an important meeting. I will play again later!”

   Ruga huffed up at me, narrowing his eyes. “Get dark soon. Time to sleep. Ruga and Relk have fun now.”

   “Well, can’t you have fun somewhere else, just for ten minutes?”

   Relk shook her head defiantly from side to side. “Like it here.”

   I slapped my hands irritably on the windowsill, growing ever more frustrated at their lack of cooperation. “Then you must be quiet until I finish my meeting.”

   “How quiet?” Relk asked, and I could tell that they were beginning to annoy me purposely.

   “So that I can’t hear you,” I demanded. “Please, just this once!”

   “Okay!” Ruga chirped loudly. “Ruga and Relk be quiet!”

   I grumbled, and turned around in hope that they would finally allow me some peace. I even closed the window, just in case of any further interruption.

   “My name is Pluk Mett. Taku is Pluk friend!”

   My nerves jangled, and my jaw shuddered as a sigh of inevitability found its way through. I looked up to see the giant Pluk, hunching his body forward to avoid damaging the ceiling, performing a rather clumsy handshake with a stunned Dennis Saxton.

   “Um, hello,” Mr Saxton quivered. “That’s nice. Are you, uh, staying?”

   “Pluk say hello! Meet nice Human.”

   I twiddled with my tail in a panic and rushed over, cautiously pushing Pluk away from Mr Saxton. “Pluk, you shouldn’t be here!” I grunted at him.

   “Pluk come to see Taku office,” He defended. “Now see nice Human.”

   “He’s not here to see you,” I urged, pushing him implicatively towards my office door. “Now go.”

   I don’t know specifically what caused Pluk to jolt at that moment – perhaps something sharp on the floor or an object that he bumped into – but his tall frame straightened, and a huge crunch came as his head blades pierced the ceiling. Shards of plaster tumbled onto his shoulders.

   “Pluk, leave! Please!” I requested more forcefully as he assessed the damage that he had just caused. All the while Mr Saxton was watching curiously from a distance.

   “Okay,” My massive comrade grumbled. “Pluk go.”

   He hunched himself down again and squeezed below the door frame as I attempted to keep his other blades from scratching any surfaces. I closed the door behind him, relieved to be alone with Mr Saxton again.

   “Some security you got here…” He commented with absolutely no hint of amusement.

   I shook my head and sighed, before heading back to the desk where he had deposited some more files. “It’s amazing how one so tall can get in unseen or unheard,” I added. “But he won’t cause any harm. To anything living, at least.”

   He coughed into his hand again, and now I could sense some impatience. “Where were we?”

   “You had just finished informing me of the production. Of course, it all sounds reasonable to me.”

   He smiled. “Oh, it’s all very reasonable.”

   “I would like some time to consider, though. I will be making some calls and taking some recommendations.”

   Saxton chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “Please, Taku, there’s no need! I have already made all the relevant calls and filled out all the necessary forms. We’ve gone through all the processes and the procedures, and so there really is no point of you going through it as well.”

   I frowned and tapped a fingernail on the desk. “But, I-”

   “It’s all there, Taku,” He whispered, reaching forward and swooping a hand over the three files that he had laid out before me. “I will leave those with you to double check, but I can promise you that everything you need to know is there.”

   It was becoming a difficult and unfamiliar situation, and I couldn’t find appropriate words to say. “Okay…”

   Mr Saxton stood from his seat and removed one final pad of paper from his lap. “All you have to do, Taku, is go over all those boring contracts, and when you’re happy, just sign a couple of forms to give us your consent. We’ll be raising money for the park in no time!”

   The pad was placed under my snout. A selection of black and white papers filled with words and symbols, and a dotted line at the end where my signature was needed. I took the files, but didn’t know what to do with them at that moment.

   I could have asked him for more details, but he was in a rush. He insisted that I consider it, offered to shake my hand, and left.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

   The decisions were entirely up to me. The message of _CrescentCreations_ proposals eventually reached Toby, but her spontaneous reply was essentially to leave all responsibility at my feet. It irked me a little, but with her on a long emergency trip to Washington D.C., I understood enough not to bother her.

   It made me prideful, too. I read through all of the paperwork and took whatever gripes I had to the company’s official, who went over a few extra details with me. Some money would go to the park, with a percentage that they estimated would bring in a few hundred-thousand dollars in the first year. I couldn’t say no, especially with the park in need of some improvements here and there.

   I was adapting to the role well, and the first nerves were long gone. Now even Clarissa left me to my own devices, though she did still visit me often in my office. She was with Toby in Washington, as was Cassie. Things were getting serious for those friends, with several new bills being proposed that would limit our people, as well as threats brought about by the ongoing Kelbrid war. While they dealt with those matters, I was left to watch over our totally peaceful population. Not that it didn’t have some stresses of its own.

   _CrescentCreations_ were setting up for their first trial shooting. It was somewhere south of where I lived, nearer to where Toby resided. The location was chosen for several reasons, including the proximity to the large river running by, the patches of dense trees running by open stretches, the population size, and the beauty of the area in general. Though I presumed that they would bring a couple of cameras and a producer of two, I didn’t really understand the actual scope of it all.

   The director (whose name was never mentioned to me, and who never seemed to have the time to tell me it himself) seemed to want me there, but not as an advisor or an expert. He talked to me like a translator, as if he thought speaking to our people was too much of a task to undertake himself.

   “Hey, you!” He blurted as I passed by at the whim of a cameraman who had lost his soda. “Yeah, you!”

   “Me?” I responded, placing a claw to my chest.

   He rolled his eyes and sat back heavily on his fold-away chair, clutching eagerly to a cardboard hot-drinks container. “Yeah. Get over here.”

   I obeyed reluctantly and stood tall over him. He didn’t flinch, nor did he make eye contact, preferring instead to wave a hand dismissively at something behind me. “Could you make them, you know, gather? We wanna get as many in one shot as we can.”

   The request puzzled me, and I turned around to see a few of our people going about their daily routines in the distant trees. A few were in our clearing, shifting some branches. As expected, they had accepted the entire filming crew and were too polite to get in their way, ignorant of the fact that they were actually the ones being filmed. Nevertheless, it seemed silly to drag them all over to the clearing for a few snapshots and whatever else the director wanted.

   “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I suggested sorrowfully. “They seem to be busy tending to the tr-”

   “You wanna make money?!” He interrupted forcefully.

    “Do I… Well, yes. For the park. I just-”

   “Bring them over,” He said quite conclusively. “Don’t you reptiles bask or something? Get them out into the Sun. I don’t really care if it’s cold.”

   I cleared my throat anxiously. “Technically, we are not reptiles. We don’t fit into Earth classifications, so w-”

   “I wanna see basking.” He ordered, practically ending the discussion.

  Orders were orders, and I did not wish to argue with somebody who could easily intimidate Pluk. Toby would have had a hard time, even. Although we were slowly entering my third autumn, and the temperature was rapidly declining, I decided that the momentary and uncomfortable distraction for my people would justify what it would eventually achieve.

   Our people were reluctant, but more than happy to help. Without order, they began to start a small campfire in the clearing, which the director was pleased about. He said it felt more _relatable_ , whatever that meant.

   So our people, finally getting some warmth and being their usual polite and social selves, started to mingle with the crew. I was okay with that, and in fact overjoyed that they approached on their own accord. However, the director was not so impressed.

   “Can you guys quit messing around?!” He yelped to his fellow Humans. “Why are you standing around talking to them?! We’re here to film and then go home! I don’t want to be here another three hours!”

   With a screechy voice like his, one that tore through the brain like a key on a car bonnet, nobody wanted to answer back. Human and Hork-Bajir alike ceased chatting and nervously separated into the appropriate positions. I didn’t really know what mine was, so I stood aside and between.

   “What are you doing?!”

   I cringed as the penetrating voice returned, and noticed that it was directed at me. I recovered, and said, “I’m just standing over here to-”

   “No, you’re not,” He exclaimed. “Go over there where the cameras can see you! You’re not here to stand around!”

   I did what he told reluctantly, mumbling under my breath as I went to sit with my brothers and sisters. They were equally peeved, but compliant, and were now sat as one large group around the growing campfire, chattering amongst themselves.

   “I like it!” The director’s voice announced somewhere behind us. “Let’s do this before they move!”

   It could have been worse. At least we were allowed to speak amongst ourselves. The packed-in members of the community got to talking about the usual things: What kind of trees they had found, what new landmarks they had spotted. Nothing really out of the ordinary.

   However, my presence added a little buzz to the crowd. I quickly found that a lot of the attention was directed to me, and I was learning the names of this previously foreign group. They had heard of me before, and weren’t afraid to say so.

   “Happy see Taku Kelmut,” An acquaintance informed. He was planted down beside me, trying to avoid his elbow blade pressing too sharply against my right arm. “Taku Kelmut like Toby Hamee. _Different_.”

   “Taku _different_.” One of his friends confirmed.

   I blinked and considered. “How do you know of me? I have never been this way before?”

   “Story,” One commented. “Story of new _seer_.”

   “Bring Humans with strange magic trees.” Another said, indicating the crewmen with their large cameras.

   I shook my head. “I didn’t bring them. I’m just here to advise them. I _thought_ I was, anyway…”

   It came to my attention after a few more exchanges that nobody had any idea why the Humans were there, and why they had pulled the community into a dense group. What irked me most of all was that despite the lack of knowledge, the community was happy to oblige with anything that the Humans requested of them. I was almost inclined to instruct them to make their own decisions, but then I would be at the mercy of the unwavering director.

   They didn’t keep us for too long, and we were allowed to disperse to our previous positions. Instead of returning to the Humans (where, to be honest, I felt completely ineffectual), I stuck around with the local inhabitants, sharing with them some food and a few oft-heard anecdotes. They were genuinely pleased to see the _new seer_ , and by far the majority of them knew my name even before my arrival.

   There was one family that was very eager to see me. They caught me just as I was about to leave, and called me up into their tree that rose over the river’s edge. I pulled myself up the trunk, following close behind the female who had invited me up. I got the distinct sense that it wasn’t merely a friendly hello visit, and when I flipped up over the platform and saw an anxious family awaiting me, my suspicions were confirmed.

   Five individuals stood around. Two parents from what I could see, including the female who had led me up, with two _kawatnoj_. With them was another female, who I assumed to be the mother of one of the parents. Below all five of them, slumped up against the main trunk of the tree, sat a male whose body was ragged and scarred.

   “Oh, um,” I stuttered, bumbling oafishly towards the downed individual. “What’s happened here?”

   The father of the group filled me in with a few details. “Father-father sick. Fall. Put by tree.”

   “Okay…” I sighed, accepting that said details were always likely to be vague. “Can you tell me what kind of sickness he has?”

   The male nodded. “Father-father chest move bad. Make breathe hard.”

   I stared down to my fallen brother, and his breath was indeed weak. He gazed up at me, and I noticed him smiling.

   “Toby Hamee?” He whispered eerily, eyes blinking and unfocused.

   “No,” I replied, kneeling down beside him as his family watched. “My name is Taku Kelmut.”

   “Hear of Taku Kelmut,” He muttered. “Taku like Toby Hamee. Different.”

   I made myself a little more comfortable and tried to check for other signs of illness. “Do you know Toby Hamee?” I said, making some small talk while I observed. 

   “Yes. Know Toby Hamee long,” He mused. “Toby Hamee friend.”

   He bore many scars on his body, moreso than any active Hork-Bajir would ever get by simply running through trees. A realisation dawned on me. “You must have known her during the war.”

   He smiled weakly, but assuredly. “Yes. Since war. That why Mit sick.”

   “Because of something that happened during the war?” I asked, surprised.

   “Yes. Mit hit here,” He explained, holding his chest. “Hard.”

   I would not tell him that I had any expertise in physical issues, because I really didn’t. I knew nothing of it, but I looked around at all of their faces, and I felt the hope radiating from them, as if I were some miracle-worker here to save the life of their crippled father. I felt immense guilt, as if the mere action of inspecting him would give them that false-hope.

   “Taku help Father-father?” One of the children pleaded, tugging at my arm. “Taku see far. Know much.”

   “See what Hork-Bajir not see.” Her mother added.

   It wasn’t true at all. I saw exactly what they saw: A crippled war veteran struggling from the injuries he received in some battle years ago. I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t diagnose him. But there was something I could do.

   “Do you know where Jackson is?” I quizzed the family.

   “Jack-son?” One replied. The rest looked down, puzzled.

   “The Human town near here. Where the Humans live in their big square trees.”

   To my relief, the mother perked up. “Know! See from mountain.”

   “There is a place there where your Father-father can be treated. A medical centre specifically for Hork-Bajir. If you take Mit there, the Humans will direct you. I’m sure.”

   Their faces lit up, and it took me completely by surprise. It was not as if I did much to help other than push them onto the Humans.

   “We _fellana_!” The mother chirped. “ _Fellana_ Taku Kelmut!”

   “Take to Humans,” The father agreed. “Take Father-father to Jack-son.”

 

   I travelled home in a contemplative mood. It occurred that more and more of our people were beginning to look to me as something much more than a stranger. It was happening everywhere, and very few people, if any, weren’t aware of my presence in the park, my name, and what was different about me. People would ask of me things that they would probably never think to ask anybody else, and often they would request things that I simply could not provide. They saw me to be like Toby, and in so many ways, I was not like her at all.

   I did my best for them all, because they only ever had good intentions. But it became ever more difficult to keep up with the demands, especially when, for example, my neighbours would always come to me first when they had questions that they could not answer. Most of the time, I had to admit ignorance, but every time that I found an answer, it would only solidify their view of me as a kind of prophet.

   The pressure was starting to apply, and I could better appreciate why Toby would so often isolate herself, even from her family. It was very tiring for just one person to take on such responsibility.

   But I loved our people, and their problems were mostly ones that we shared. It felt very satisfying to help them in any way that I could, even if my help was only minor.

   My relationship to the Humans was similar in many ways, but majorly different in others. Like our people, my name was known in places where I had never even dreamt of visiting. But they didn’t call on me for help, or ask for my advice when they were unsure. In fact, it was completely the other way around.

   In the end, the Humans weren’t my responsibility. I just had to make certain that our people weren’t damaged by their actions, and that wasn’t something I really saw happening.

   Then I would remember Lieutenant Matthews, and I would again be thrown to a pit of self-doubting.

   I arrived back in my home community as the sunset began to make its presence known on the mountainous horizon. Everything was being packed up, readied for the next morning when activities would resume. The campfire, growing more important as the nights grew colder, was already well under way.

   Eager to make the most of the evening, I saved dinner for the usual feast that would consist of bark that the harvesters considered the finest cut of the day. With the expertise that came naturally, it always made for a wonderful meal.

   I was nearly there.

   “Find Taku!”

   I jumped at the noise, swivelling as the voice registered as Relk’s. “Oh, hello! I didn’t expect to see you.”

   She was sat atop a fallen trunk, two piles of leaves sat on the ground before her. One was green, the other brown, and from the distribution, it was obvious that she had been organising them.

   She smiled at me childishly. “Taku not say long words. Long word make Relk head stuck.” She complained, holding her head.

   “I try to make it as easy as I can,” I excused as I moved to sit beside her. “I was going to look for you. The feast will start soon.”

   “Feast boring,” She giggled. “Something else. Play.”

   I scratched at my neck, still staring curiously at the two piles of leaves. “Play? Aren’t you hungry?”

   “Relk eat.” She explained cheerily.

   “Oh. I haven’t eaten dinner yet, but I should be fine for a while,” I muttered awkwardly, slumping into a hunched position as she sat proudly above me, also gloatingly as I finally had to give in. “Relk, what are you doing with these leaves?”

   Maybe it was obvious. When she started to laugh, I definitely got that impression. She joined me in staring, using the tip of her tail to ruffle the brown pile. “Taku not know? Relk bring leaves. Green. Brown.”

   “I can see that… But why?”

   Relk stopped giggling and stared blankly at me. Such conversations were frustrating, but answers always come eventually. “Why?”

   I blinked. “Yes, why?”

   She shrugged and smiled wider. “Why why?”

   “Why why?”

   Totally convinced, she nodded. “Why why?”

   “So…” I grunted, nudging at the other pile. “You had no reason to do this?”

   Relk shook her head, and kicked the brown pile of leaves so that they scattered before her. “Why need reason?”

   That statement didn’t sit right with me. “Everything needs a reason, Relk. Everything is done with some purpose in mind.”

   “Taku make big words,” She retorted. “What reason?”

   “So that you can understand me.” I explained.

   “But Relk not understand.”

   I sighed, and picked myself up from the downed trunk. My brain was too drained to consider the problem. “Shall we play now?”

   She grinned mischievously, having clearly gotten her wish. “Yes, Taku Kelmut.”

   We went for no direction in particular, under Relk’s guidance of using absolutely no reason to get to whatever destination it was that we had no reason to go to. I followed her for the entire time, thinking too hard, contemplating things that I felt needed contemplating. Relk would stop and tell me to speed up whenever my speed declined.

   This time, I wasn’t thinking about the little plights of our people, or the various Humans that I was forced into contact with. I was thinking of her. It was a curious predicament that only served to fuel my high-speed brain. I had never looked at her that way before then, watching her swing through the trees effortlessly, clutching to rogue branches high above to swing herself to the next trunk over, fastidiously bouncing to the next, and the next…

   It was all falling into place. Mother and Father were a couple, as were the parents of all my peers. As were my Father-fathers and Mother-mothers. _Kawatnoj_ never behaved in such a way, never paired off like that. Most certainly, _kawatnoj_ didn’t do the things that I had often and unintentionally caught my parents doing late at night in the home tree.

   There was a shift in preference there somewhere, and I was becoming very sure that said shift was pulling at my tail.

   That conclusion was further proved when I realised that never before had I been so fascinated with Relk’s rear end. How peculiar it was.

   We slowed to a stop nearby the campsite, but far enough into the trees that we would likely go undisturbed. Relk perched herself up against a pine tree and, having spent a considerable amount of energy, began a feast of her own. I wasn’t far behind, and I was even hungrier. I had barely eaten at all, and after such a long day, it was becoming a necessity that I get some nutrition.

   “Fire boring,” Relk commented as the relaxation period begun. “Better be with Taku to play.”

   “I think you’re right,” I commented. “It’s a lot of fun. We should do it again sometime.”

   She nodded eagerly, tiny shards of wood being flung from her snout. “Again. Just as warm.”

   “Maybe not during the winter. I think we’ll have to be by the fire during the colder months.”

   Relk paused awkwardly, and gazed at me with narrow, curious eyes. “Taku change a lot. Taku not speak like Hork-Bajir. Big words. Strange words.”

   “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to confuse you…”

   She squeaked, and warmly handed me a great big slab of bark. “Relk _think_ know what Taku say, even if not _know_ what Taku say.”

   I chuckled lightly, and began the challenge of eating such a great chunk of pine. “I guess that’s pretty useful…” I didn’t really know what else to say.

   “Taku talk like Human.”

   “Yes, that’s true.” I replied.

   “Be like Human.”

  “In some ways, maybe,” I shrugged. “But I am much more like you.”

   “Taku like Human.” She insisted.

   I scratched at my neck gauchely.  “They are quite nice. Most of the time.”

   “No,” She grunted, shaking her head roughly. “ _Like_ Humans.”

   Now it was my turn to feel stupid, and I squirmed even more embarrassingly. “My brain is more like a Human’s, but the rest of me is definitely Hork-Bajir. That’s how I like it.” I couldn’t believe, once I was done speaking, how defensive I was becoming about it. I played anxiously with the tip of my tail, my father’s uneasy habit.

   Relk grinned and moved closer to me, gifting to me a fraction more comfort in the situation. Her beautiful snout nearly contacted my own, and she locked her eyes to mine with irresistible chains. It was an inspection, sophisticated and astute. Traits not commonly associated with our people, but something we were infrequently capable of. She pulled my soul up through my pupils, magnifying glasses that delved into all of my being.

   “Relk like, too.” Was her deceivingly simple response. She backed away, and resumed her meal.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

   I was in a dining hall. In Washington, D.C., of course, on my second outing. It had been a while since my last visit, but the memories were still so vivid that it felt like I had lived there my entire life. Buildings like great trees, car lights like the flickers of a campfire in the late evening.

   This time, the city wasn’t like wandering into a whole new universe where everything was new and exciting. Having become so heavily involved with the Human world back in and around Yellowstone, I had seen pretty much everything that I needed to see. I had played with computers, watched hours of television, taken taxi rides around my local town, interacted with Humans of all different vocations and backgrounds. I even had my own tablet.

   Well, Clarissa let me borrow it. Sometimes. Maybe once a week…

   In the end, she got frustrated with me for filling her tablet with distinctly unprofessional pictures of myself and random, indistinguishable pieces of furniture.

   I digress. Washington had soon lost its charm, and now it just seemed like a kind of irritating noise. A chore that I had to muscle through. I was told that that was just the way that jobs were, but I didn’t like considering it as a job. I wanted it to be an adventure. In many ways, it was, but was always more discomforting than exciting.

   The reason I was in Washington again was to further push my reputation as a contact for our two peoples. I was still Toby’s apprentice in more ways than I liked to admit, but more and more I was becoming “The New Toby”. With that name sat upon my shoulders came the expectations, and I started attending meetings, conferences and, of course, dinners with various influential Humans.

   That was what I was doing on that day. It was a dinner organised by a local politician who Toby and Cassie had been in talks with. It was about Yellowstone funding, I believe. Either way, I was dragged along because the Humans attending were eager to meet me, or so I was told.

   Seating arrangements had placed me opposite to Toby somewhere near the end of the lengthy table. Seated beside me was Clarissa, feeling unnervingly like a translator. Cassie was sat beside Toby, and they spent most of their time in a whispered, private conversation.

   I was in the midst of a conversation with the wife of the politician who was hosting the dinner. She was sat just within speaking distance, though Clarissa kept a firm grasp on my volume whenever I began speaking too loud.

   “So, Mr Kelmut,” Mrs Martins continued. “I can’t imagine this is your first time in the capital.”

   She was an older Human. From previous encounters, I would estimate that she was between the ages of fifty and sixty. Humans grow to quite old ages, but when they do, their skin starts to sag and droop. Her hair was unusual: well-groomed, blonde and in a strange style that was neither held up or hanging down. She wore a black dress that reached to the higher areas of her chest, a perfect fit for a silver necklace asleep around her neck.

   “It’s my second time,” I replied, getting a slight nudge from Clarissa to turn down my volume. “It is wonderful. A lot different from my home.”

   Mrs Martins smiled. “And you’ve settled in so well haven’t you? It’s such a pleasure to have you here tonight.”

   “Thank you, Mrs Martins.” I said, returning a smile of my own.

   Usually, in that situation, I found that Humans preferred to be called by their first names. It was almost a compulsory part of any conversation that I had with an influential Human. I would say their surname following a title, and they would reply with something along the lines of, _Please, call me Harold_.

   Not this time. I shrugged it off.

   Though I knew very few of those who joined me at the dinner table, I was very happy to be sat in such close proximity to my greatest allies this side of the country.

   Toby and Cassie had momentarily ceased their exclusive chatter to assess the goings-on around them. Cassie - who I had been seeing much more of recently – smiled warmly to me, reassuringly.

   It was deceiving. Though my recent visits with her had been pleasant affairs, this last week had seen a change in her. Perhaps it wasn’t clear, because she hid it tremendously well, but I saw glimpses of anxiety behind her eyes. She was fearful, and her private talks with Toby did nothing to help her feel any better. Something was wrong.

   It couldn’t be told from Toby’s face. She looked as stone cold as ever. It meant that she had things under some control, at least.

   “Cosy?” Clarissa asked from my side, sat back in her seat with a satisfied grin on her face.

   “I think so,” I said, shuffling uneasily in my large fancy seat, my tail getting in the way as it so often did. “Starting to get a little hungry.”

   She rolled her eyes. “Is food all you think about? Damn Taku, it’ll be here soon. Just mingle, okay?”

   “Mingle? I don’t really know what to say. I feel very awkward.”

   “Just roll with it,” She suggested, staring at her highly polished nails. “You always seem to land on your feet. Just remember, this is high society again. Remember what I told you about table manners around these people?”

   “I remember,” I grunted. “We spent days going over those rules.”

   “And you’ll see why,” Clarissa told. “Go on. Enjoy yourself and make friends.”

   I sat back around in my seat, turning my head in both directions to look upon the approximately sixteen strange Humans that were busy chatting amongst themselves. I tapped my claws anxiously on the side of the table, and tried to ignore Clarissa as she watched me expectantly.

   Then I was saved – I thought – by the tap-tapping of a spoon on a wine glass. Mr Martins, the host, rose from his seat at the end of the table as the rest fell silent. An introductory speech was undoubtedly commencing. Or rather, a pre-food one. I hoped for the latter as my tongue felt the cool whip of saliva invading my mouth.

   “Ladies, Gentlemen, and alien friends,” He began jauntily. “I hope you’re all having a wonderful evening. I know that many of you have travelled long distances to be in the capital, and it warms my heart to know that you would come along to this, the newly restored hall where we are gathered, at my request. To think that, where we sit now, talking about fund-raising and mid-terms, about business and amendments, presidents from centuries ago walked on these floors and drank fine wine under this roof.”

   There were a few cheery mutterings at the mention of wine, and I noticed several glasses being raised as their owners were reminded of their presence.

   “Now,” Martins continued. “We don’t have presidents in here tonight. Not yet, anyway. Who knows who the next president will be, or the president after that? Maybe Daniel will finally do what he’s been promising us all for years!”

   There was muffled laughter, so I assumed that it was a joke. Daniel himself – Mr Dorman – seemed to find it most amusing.

   Martins chuckled to himself, leaning forward against the table. “I’m honoured that you join me tonight. I’m honoured that my friends have come, but also that there are some people here tonight who I have yet had the pleasure to meet personally. I suppose tonight is the night that that changes.”

   A few eyes glanced around the table, some landing on me and passing by. I knew that I was one of those people, but there were likely others.

   “I hope you have fun tonight. Make new friends, new allies for you political futures,” Martins nodded. “And I hope the food is to your satisfaction.”

   From behind the table erupted a series of clatters, and with them came the marching of three males in butler outfits. They carried large metal domes, which they deftly added to the already busy scene of our dinner table. A platter for each section that, when opened up with dramatic and timely aplomb, revealed patterns of finger food and cocktail sticks. Appetisers, I had come to know.

   Not Hork-Bajir food, which caused me great disappointment. Though, perhaps I judged the situation too soon, because a fourth, slightly smaller platter was placed and opened before Toby and myself. Finger-sized slabs of bark, of course. Not on cocktail sticks, but I understood that that would be quite impractical. Clarissa nudged me roughly, and I wiped away some saliva that had appeared on my lower jaw.

   Dinner was mostly uninteresting. Not the food (which was lovely), but the fact that everybody must have been so hungry that conversations were kept low and mumbled casually between little groups. The appetisers remained, but the starters and main courses went by surprisingly uneventfully. I was becoming very curious when I realised that nobody seemed to bring up any conversations with me. Human strangers would always try to talk to me, but these Humans were much, much different.

   My friends, especially Cassie and Clarissa, were talking amongst themselves like any pair of good companions would. Typical Human conversations about shoes and holidays, and how much their peers at work irritated them. Toby got involved on occasion, but only when seemingly forced to.

   “Hey, Taku,” Clarissa interrupted as I was halfway through some delectable pine bark. “You seem quiet tonight.”

   “Yeah,” Cassie agreed. “Not your usual hyperactive self.”

   I scratched lightly at my jaw. “I don’t know many people here.”

   “That’s never stopped you in the past.” Clarissa commented, once again playing with her nails.

   Cassie looked over knowingly, and I sensed her taking on a more serious stance. “Things are a bit different this time. They’re different people.”

   I nodded, and it certainly felt like the right answer.

   “You’ll have to get used to it,” Toby interjected quietly, sat back in her seat. “These are the people who you must try hardest to make allies with.”

   Clarissa grimaced at Toby, and her change in posture signalled an oncoming rant. But Cassie nodded in agreement, and that was enough to put Clarissa back into place.

   “She’s right,” Cassie explained. “If you want to be around these sorts of people, then you should get to know them.”

   She put a very subtle exaggeration on the word “if”. It was barely there, but it made her concerns clear.

   With the backing of those two, and the half-backing of Clarissa, I made it my goal to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger. The Human male to my immediate left was Mr Hampton, an acquaintance that I had met before, so he was not a contender. Nor was the female sat beside Toby, who had been with her during a few meetings that we had both attended.

   The next person over, however, was an unfamiliar face. He was relatively young, at least to my limited knowledge of Human facial observation, and he had light, black stubble with short thick hair on his head. He appeared to be semi-involved in a conversation with Mr Hampton, but unencumbered enough for me to try my best at making a good introduction.

   “Hello.” I blurted. It wasn’t the best introduction, I admit.

   The male mustered a polite smile. “Hi. Taku Kelmut? I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” He said, turning in his seat to face in my direction. I took that as a good sign that we had started on the right foot.

   “What is your name?” I asked of him, keeping my voice down as the ambient volume was low enough for us to speak without issue.

   He grinned, shiny white teeth gleaming. “Lakeston. You can call me Bill.”

   The mere fact that he offered a first name was definitely reassuring. “What do you do, Bill?”

   He straightened in his chair, becoming more relaxed if it were possible, but also shimmering with a layer of self-importance that I had come to expect from that type of Human. “I thought you would have known, being around Toby all of the time.”

   The awkwardness had returned. Should I have known him? With a quick glance to Toby (who had been watching the whole time), I noticed her trying to subtly pass over an answer. Unfortunately, Humans were much more mobile with their lips, and trying to read Toby’s was impossible.

   Then I received some unwanted help. Mr Hampton chuckled, amused, and said, “ _Governor_ Lakeston is the governor of Wyoming.”

   It was nothing too serious, looking back. I had never met the man, but something about that situation was awful. I felt tremendously embarrassed and squirmed pathetically as Hampton and Lakeston laughed amongst themselves at my ignorance.

   My brain abuzz with concern, I looked to Toby for any assistance. Much to my despair, all she could offer was a look of vague pity. Clearly, I was left to pick up the pieces.

   “Sorry,” I stuttered back to Lakeston. “Of course I knew that. I’m simply tired.”

   “Hey, don’t worry about it,” Lakeston said with a gulp of wine. “You know _now_.”

   My lie had not convinced anybody, but at least I had been given a pass.

   “Anyway, Taku,” Lakeston continued, making me thankful that he was still willing to talk to me. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

   I blinked. “You have?”

   Again came that laughter, another Human sat beside Mr Hampton joining.

   “Of course!” Lakeston exclaimed. “You’re The New Seer! Toby can retire now and not worry about working up till the grave.”

   Toby barely flinched; too busy listening in on the conversation to react to individual statements.

   Mr Hampton added, “Only two seers. Who _hasn’t_ heard of you?”

   And Lakeston nodded. “Nobody in the technological world has lived without hearing your name. What surprises me though, Taku, is how little we’ve seen.”

   “What do you mean?” I asked.

   He shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I just thought we’d see you growing your influence.”

   Then Mrs Martins entered our conversation, “Yes, Taku, what have you been doing this past year?”

   By this point, I was quickly becoming the focal point of the dining hall. Suddenly, I felt so tiny amid all those turning heads and glaring eyes.

   “I’ve been working in Yellowstone,” I informed correctly. “Helping Toby with some jobs.”

   “What kind of jobs have you been doing?” Lakeston pressed.

   I was more than prepared to answer, and indeed I tried to. However, Toby got there first with a strange desire to answer in my place.

   “Taku has been aiding me with the excess duties in Yellowstone that I cannot otherwise find time to do myself. He has been given tasks suitable for one of his age and skill, and he has done exceptionally well.”

   Mrs Martins giggled, but waved a hand dismissively at Toby. “Shush, you! Let Taku answer for himself.”

   Though Toby had been put in her place, the motives for her intrusion became clear, and I used it to my advantage.

   “I do some important tasks in the Yellowstone park offices,” I said confidently, following Toby’s lead. “And I handle a lot of people who wish to utilise and invest in the park.”

   “That sounds very interesting,” Lakeston commented with a swirl of his wine glass. “What tasks? I hope you don’t mind me asking.”

   I smiled, naively explaining, “I’m in charge of media in the park. Well… sort of in charge. I judge whether a company is eligible to enter the park for media-related purposes.”

   I didn’t expect derisive laughter again, but it came even louder than before. I wondered what I had said wrong, only for Lakeston to detail the issues, saying, “Media in the park? Well, I suppose _somebody’s_ got to do it.”

   “You’ve been working with the media for how long?” Hampton asked, the same cruel smile on his face.

   “Oh,” I sighed. “Nearly a year?”

   “You know,” Mrs Martins started, not so much talking to me but to the entire table. “I haven’t seen much out of Yellowstone recently.”

   “Didn’t that _CrescentCreations_ sign a contract? That group that Toby’s always been moaning about?” Another Human added.

   I couldn’t have sunk any lower into my seat if I tried. How could it have backfired so badly? If I’d have known I would become the table joke, I would have stayed at the hotel watching uninteresting night-time television.

   Thankfully, my friends were there to back me up. Cassie, noticing my distress, leant forward and said, “Taku’s been doing a lot of work for the park, and I think that he deserves a lot of respect for offering his help at such a young age when there’s been nobody else around to do it. Would anyone of us do it, considering he doesn’t actually get paid?”

   That went some way to relieve the atmosphere, and I thanked Cassie with a smile. She winked back.

   “We’re sure you’re doing a wonderful job.” Mrs Martins said, and it felt so much like a reluctant apology.

   Lakeston smiled, silent for a short while. Then he decided to quiz me again, but this time dispensing with the mocking tone. “What are your plans for the future, Taku?”

   I waited, unsure whether Toby would interject again to provide a suitable response. But then I realised that this question was too personal. That, and I needed to show at least some independence. I cleared my throat, and said, “I want to help our people, like Toby does now. And I want to see many places. Not just Washington and New York, but places like… I don’t know… The Grand Canyon, the Egyptian pyramids, Hyperion…”

   “Hyperion?” Clarissa intruded.

   “It’s a Redwood tree in California,” Cassie explained. “The tallest living tree in the world, I think.”

   Clarissa rolled her eyes. “That makes sense.”

   Lakeston coughed to re-grab my attention. “I’m sure there are many places you’d like to go. And, if you end up working in the same position as Toby, you might be able to see all those places. But first, you need to be in that position.”

   “I understand that,” I uttered. “But I know that I can do it. I’ve been learning from Toby for a long time now.”

   “How long, Taku?” He asked.

   “Oh,” I stumbled, searching my head for an approximate answer. “Around one-and-a-half years now, I think.”

   The mocking, light laughter returned. I didn’t know why, but suddenly the relaxation that I was slowly building back was destroyed, and I slumped back into my chair.

   “That’s not very long.” Mrs Martins pointed out, taking a sip of her own wine.

   “Taku,” Lakeston continued, clasping his hands together as he leant forward onto the table. “It took me twenty-three years to get to where I am today, and I got here _quickly_.”

   I wanted to say something, to rectify the situation and come back at him with a smart retort to show them that I was capable. But nothing came from my mouth. It was clamped shut, and it refused to open.

   Then it was Hampton’s turn, apparently. “You say that you’re involved with the whole media side of the park?” He asked.

   I managed to reply, “Yes.”

   “What involvement have you had with the media so far?”

   I seemed like a genuine question, and the small pockets of laughter had died off. Therefore, I felt it necessary to answer, knowing all too well that I was again throwing myself from a cliff of unknown depth. “I’ve allowed a couple of companies into the park, done some research into what they have planned and funding. I’ve supervised every camera crew that has entered the park.”

   “So you work a lot around camera crews, huh?” Hampton nodded. “Hey, how come I haven’t seen you on television yet? You know, The New Seer and all that… Actually, I take that back, I saw you _once_.”

   “I remember that,” Lakeston acknowledged. “That was when we first found out about you. Your interview was shown on every station.”

   “So how come that’s all we’ve seen, Taku?”

   I shrugged, firstly. “Well… Do I need to be on television?”

   Success! I thought… They all seemed to nod and momentarily release their stares. Nevertheless, they wanted more, and came back with something new.

   “Have you seen Toby on television?” Lakeston quizzed.

   “Yes, I have.” I replied with a nod.

   He grinned, showing his gnawing teeth as he chewed on a leftover appetiser. “She’s a real machine with those TV interviews, don’t you think? Nobody leaves a debate with her in one piece, huh.”

   In the corner of my eye, I saw Toby smirk. She rarely expressed her pride, but in that particular setting, it seemed so much more valuable.

   I agreed with him. “I have seen her many times.”

   “I’ve always wondered,” Lakeston coughed. “Whether you would be just like Toby. Fiery, face like a brick wall. But then, we’ve never seen you on television. Why don’t you do interviews like Toby?”

   It was some kind of game. I could tell. He was perhaps trying to provoke a response, more ammunition for him and his friends to have five seconds of cheap laughter.

   “I have other things to do.” I said blankly.

   “You’re right,” He agreed with an expressive hand gesture. “You should concentrate on other things. You’re probably too young for it anyway. And…” His eyes narrowed, and he gazed over my face. “I don’t think you’re the right person for it.”

   It was childish, what I did next, and it was something that I really shouldn’t have done. But I felt so utterly demolished. It was as if, with one look into my eyes, he cast me aside as somebody unworthy of his standard. I had felt that way all night.

   I just wanted to show them that I wasn’t there for them to walk all over me, and I accepted their unspoken challenge.

   “I can do interviews just as well as Toby,” I huffed. “I just haven’t had time to do any yet.”

   A great big smile spread on Lakeston’s face. “Oh really? That’s quite a bold statement.”

   In the midst of his reply, I glanced to my three friends. They were all sat slumped with their heads in their hands. I got the feeling that they didn’t share in my confidence.

   “And it’s true.” I announced, sitting straight in my seat and grabbing at the edge of the table with both hands.

   “I don’t doubt it for a second,” He said calmly. “I tell you what, why don’t we arrange for it then? A good old fashioned television interview? You can pick which network, and I’ll arrange it for you.”

   And back into the chair I slumped. I was up and down like a yo-yo that night. “You can do that?”

   “Of course I can. If I can win a state election, I can pay a network to get you on television.”

   “Oh…” I stuttered, the edge of a sticky situation rearing its ugly head once again. I didn’t know how to react. “I guess that would be okay.”

   He didn’t give me any time for second thoughts. “Great! It’s settled. I’m looking forward to seeing you in action, Mr Kelmut.”

   And on that, the table returned to normal, as if nothing at all had happened. The guests went back to casual mingling in their own small pockets, the host ordered more food out (including more bark chips for us), and our little group…

   Well, I guess we weren’t back to normal.

   Toby would not stop staring disapprovingly at me, and Cassie kept giving me sympathetic looks of concern. Clarissa was fussing about her hair to the pair of them, but didn’t seem to notice that nobody was paying attention.

   For ten minutes Toby remained silently criticising me. Eventually, I decided that it was enough, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

   She sighed so heavily that I thought the attention of the whole table would be distracted. “Nothing for you to concern yourself about, Taku.”

   I narrowed my eyes, unconvinced. “So why are you staring? Why are you staring at me like I’m an idiot?”

   “Because you _are_.” Clarissa answered, stating it as bluntly as I would expect from her.

   My mouth dropped, and in a strange whisper-shout combination, I rebutted, “I am not!”

   “Maybe not an idiot,” Toby mumbled. “But definitely a fool.”

   At least I had one to defend me. Cassie exhaled curtly, and said, “He’s neither. This could be a good opportunity for Taku to gain experience. Everyone starts somewhere.”

   “That’s not the point,” Toby contended. Turning to me, she said, “The only thing that you’ll learn from this experience is what you’ve done wrong here tonight.”

   I dipped my head as the berating approached. I glanced around the table to see if any other Humans had picked up on it, but Toby was being subtle enough not to draw attention. I was terribly thankful for her restraint.

   She continued. “I brought you here with intent that you would meet the kind of people that you would be dealing with in the future. Potentially. I hoped that you would have paid attention to the lessons that Clarissa and I have given you when it comes to group Human interaction, but you appear to have forgotten something very important. Do you know what that is?”

   I cringed. “No…”

   “You let them pressure you, and they pressured you into making a stupid decision. Now you are in an agreement to go on national television when you have little to no experience doing so. We can only hope that the wine makes him forget!”

   “Or I could change my mind.” I debated pitifully.

   I wanted Cassie to agree with me. After all, she was the only one there that night that seemed to want to defend me. However, she averted her gaze when our eyes met, and I knew that I was alone from then on.

   Toby calmed, and spoke softly, “You still have so much to learn.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

   I was coated in make-up. At least, I thought that it was make-up. Whatever Clarissa was applying to my face didn’t seem to be making much of a difference, no matter where or how she put it.

   “Stop moving, Taku.” She ordered, her strange brush sweeping over my lower left eyelid.

   “I can’t help it,” I responded, doing my very best to be frozen in place. “You’re too close to my eye.”

   “This is where it’s supposed to go!” She explained, grabbing hold of one of my head blades to keep me steady.

   I grunted irritably at the situation as the tips of the brush coated my scales. “I don’t want make-up.”

   “Tough. You’re getting it,” She refused. “You need to look good for this segment. You can’t go up there looking like you just crawled out of a tree.”

   “But I did.”

   Clarissa sighed, and lowered herself directly into my line of vision to grasp my full attention. “Would you stop moaning and let me do what I do best?” She giggled with her usual feminine grace. “There’s not much more to do, so just stay still, you big wimp.”

   So I put up with it for the next minute or so as she applied the final touches to my head and my neck. Anywhere that would show up on the camera.

   We were sat at the edge of a temporary studio, put up specifically for this interview in the private hall of our Washington hotel. Much of the room, usually a crowd of tables and chairs stood atop a deep red carpet with luxurious decorations lining the walls, was overhauled and replaced with all the necessary equipment of a travelling professional camera crew. A whole side of the room was awash with lighting of all difference shades and focus, each lending to a great set piece – a stool – sat in front of a glaring blue backdrop. The choice of colour confused me.

   Cassie was there, talking to one of the cameramen who seemed a little star struck. Lots of people acted like that around her, which was always a curiosity. She was well known, and not just in Yellowstone.

   Of course, Clarissa was there, too. It wasn’t often that she was absent, and I was thankful for it. Stubborn, sure, when she wanted to keep me at a certain standard, but she was a constant source of encouragement. Needless to say, I was extraordinarily nervous about the interview and I didn’t know quite what to expect. I knew of the topic of the discussion, but that was as far as my knowledge went.

   And then there was Toby, not quite ever-present but always influencing. She appeared from behind the nearest camera and caught a glimpse of me kneeling down to receive Clarissa’s treatment. A huff escaped her snout, and I wasn’t sure if it was laughter or disapproval. It was always hard to tell with her.

   “I see Clarissa got her way.” She stated brusquely.

   Clarissa deliberately ignored her and continued, saying to me, “There we go, just a little more here, and… Oh, wait, hold on…”

   “Hello Toby.” I said casually to my fellow Hork-Bajir.

   She smiled lightly and came to stand beside me. Then she thought to mention, “You seem to be shaking.”

   I blinked first, trying to see some hidden meaning in the comment, but then I looked downwards and indeed my right foot was vibrating, stomping briskly on the cold flooring. I didn’t realise it until then.

   “I’m a little nervous.” I told her, a complete understatement.

   She showed no sympathy. Her expression remained unchanged, and her only motion was a cocking of the head. “Understandable.” She mumbled.

   It was very strange. Usually for those nerve-wracking moments, Toby would put aside her political suit and attempt to show some comforting ability. To see her uncaring at this time, when I was at my most tense level, caused me to swirl a new concoction of mystery in my mind.

   Even Clarissa noticed, and she looked up to her between checking my head blades for dirt. “Toby, show him a little support?”

   With no time for rethinking, Toby replied with a cold stare, “No. This is _his_ mess.”

   She wasn’t going to help, it seemed. I didn’t respond, not quite knowing how to in that situation. Clarissa had a few choice words, but even she knew that her attempts to change Toby’s mind were pointless. Then, she tried to double her efforts to pacify me, almost seeming to impersonate Toby’s style as if to be a stand-in for my fellow seer. It didn’t have the same effect, though maybe I was just too shocked to feel it.

   Toby resigned herself to the back of the room, alone. I watched her from a distance as Clarissa finished polishing me up and the director announced to me that our segment was about to commence.

   Clarissa hugged me, something that she hadn’t done since my blades had started to grow. I wholeheartedly welcomed it, before I was urged into the spotlight by the pushy director. There I sat on the single cold stool, and looked up into the numerous lights that illuminated me.

   There were a couple of screens to my right, just out of camera shot, and on them I could make out two clear images. One was of a brightly lit, blue and red studio, with two males and a female sat around a kidney-shaped desk. It was the newsroom according to a laminated label just below the screen, and I could distinguish the host of the upcoming show ruffling through some papers while her two guests quietly chatted amongst themselves.

   Then the second screen was the face of a Hork-Bajir. My face, to be precise, coated in green make-up that, in all honesty, really brought out my eyes. I raised a hand slowly into the air, and the image on the screen copied. The only difference I could see was that the horrid blue background that rose up behind me had actually been replaced by a very realistic image of live D.C.

   I stuttered and mumbled clumsily for a brief period, only to notice Cassie and Clarissa stood not too far to my left. They watched on with anxious eyes. Toby was still off in the distance, but her gaze was no less harsh.

   “When do I start?” I weakly requested of the director, now firmly sat in his seat behind the main camera.

   Nobody answered. Instead, a pair of the camera team approached me from behind a wall of equipment, carrying with them a collection of small objects. They came right up to me, and in disinterested, muffled voices they instructed me on how to wear the tiny pieces of plastic. There was a microphone, a tiny black object that would usually be attached to a piece of Human clothing. Since I wore no clothing, they hung it around my neck with a very thin piece of string. They seemed satisfied.

   The remaining objects were a pair of headphones. Tiny, in-ear headphones. Now, I was no expert in this, but having seen Toby in several interviews, it always seemed as if she brought her own headphones, because they fit so perfectly and never appeared to cause her much discomfort. I had no headphones of my own, and as I was told to place them in my ears, I quickly found that they simply weren’t designed for anything other than the bizarre, out-sticking pieces of anatomy that were Human ears.

   “I don’t think these fit…” I complained to the Humans as I tried to force the awkward pieces of plastic into the sides of my head.

   One shrugged. “We don’t have any more. Well, we do, but they’re all the same.”

   “Just push them in,” The other grumbled, obviously having a little less patience than the other. “You have seconds.”

   “Seconds?!” I gulped. “That soon?”

   I was answered abruptly, as the director shouted, “Ready to air!”

   That resulted in a copious amount of fumbling, scrambling at the headphones and babbling utter nonsense in a desperate attempt to prepare, but then something suddenly blasted into my ears.

   It was a voice, loud and clear through both headphones and befriended with a dramatic newsroom jingle. The voice was feminine, and as I looked up at the pair of screens before me, I noticed that her words match the lip movements of the television host. The segment was beginning.

   “Good afternoon,” She introduced with professional smile. “And welcome back to News America!”

   She continued with a fortunately lengthy introduction, as I finally managed to fit the headphones into my ears. It probably looked terrible (judging from the expression I saw on Clarissa’s face in the corner of my eye), but they felt secure enough that they wouldn’t drop out mid-interview.

   Then again, I was beginning to shake so heavily that not even glue would hold them in place. I was quickly realising how terrified I really was.

   The host continued. I didn’t even know her name. “As we all know, the spending cuts now being proposed by the administration have the potential to affect millions of Americans across the nation, with some areas being hit harder than others. Under pressure from high levels of crime and low education ratings, people are wondering: “Can we really afford to cut funds to our schools and hospitals again?””

   I fidgeted in my seat, waiting for my introduction to be heard as I intently watched the left television screen. The introduction felt like a life time.

   “But there are areas that will _not_ be affected by the spending cuts. Funding for extra-terrestrials, for example, has again been left untouched, and some are beginning to ask why. For example, the Yellowstone Fund, which runs a number of hospitals and education programmes in the area, has again been unaffected, while local schools and fire stations are affected deeply by the cuts. Here to discuss why are a couple of fresh faces and one not-so-familiar.”

   That meant me. I was the not-so-familiar. I braced myself, ready for my face to flash up on the screen as soon as my name was mentioned.

   “Harry Enckelman of the New York Times,” The host introduced. “Author of the book _Social Musings: Where’s the Money Going?_ It’s good to have you here, Harry!”

   He appeared on the screen. A balding Human in his late forties, complete with a grey suit and red tie. “Thanks, Joanna. It’s great to be here again.”

   The host grinned and turned her head back to face the camera. “And joining us live from Washington D.C…”

   That was me. I straightened up in my seat, cleared my throat, and tried with desperation to stop my tail from shuddering.

   “Is Taku Kelmut, a volunteer at the Yellowstone Centre.”

   And I appeared on the right-hand side of the screen, the image of Washington in the background looking far more convincing than myself. I readjusted my pose in a brave attempt to look just a little more professional.

   “Hello to you, Taku.”

   I twitched and realised that the greeting came from the host. Eventually, I responded, “Hello.”

   That was, thankfully, enough to appease her, and she took it from there.

   “And, of course,” She continued. “Kevin Morris is still here.”

   Kevin Morris, the overweight but smiley Human sat in the centre, laughed. “Well why would I ever leave, Joanna? These seats are so comfy!”

   I got the impression that Morris was a regular. Not that it made much difference, but it caused me to feel a little better knowing that the Humans were in a good mood.

   The host had finished the brief introductions, and the real meat of the discussion began. She spoke to Harry first, throwing a question for him to tackle. “Mr Enckelman, you’ve obviously spent a lot of time studying the patterns and effects of cuts on public funding. I mean, I’ve read your books, at least three of them. They’re very good, by the way!”

   “Oh, thank you, Joanna,” He said politely. “It’s always good to receive compliments, especially since it’s such a volatile subject. Basically, one of the key points that I stress in my latest, um… pieces… columns, whatever, is that every time you have spending cuts, there is some political agenda behind it. Something other than simply trying to reduce the deficit.”

   Morris looked doubtful, and leaned in Enckelman’s direction with his hands clasped. “How can it be a good political move to cut funding to schools and hospitals?”

   “It’s not about what they cut,” Came the response. “It’s about what they _don’t_ cut. That brings us to the discussion I believe we were supposed to have. I think.” He laughed. “That’s why we have Taku here.”

   I had vanished from the screen a while ago. Though I wasn’t talking, my jaw was chattering, and I twitched at the mention of my name. However, my face remained absent from the screen.

   Joanna nodded and explained with a chuckle. “That’s what is planned. Could you explain a little more, perhaps for those in the audience who haven’t heard your arguments before, why you see this as a political move?”

   He paused to gather his thoughts. “Well, it’s always about the individual case. In this case, we find that, once again, the funding for extra-terrestrials hasn’t been cut. Yeah, maybe sometimes they need the money, but you have to look in detail! The schools and hospitals and… and fire services in Wyoming are all facing these massive cuts to their funding, and yet the funding for Yellowstone is virtually untouched. You ask why, and I’ll explain why. Any time we decide to fairly cut funds to the Hork-Bajir services and the Andalite services, we are just bombarded with criticism. We get accusations thrown around that we’re trying to suppress rights, you know. And once the Andalites start to make a fuss, the left just bows its head and surrenders to whatever they want!”

   Morris, having remained quiet during the rant, actually seemed to agree. “I think you’re right. Maybe,” He laughed. “Though maybe it’s not quite as exaggerated as you make it out to be. The Andalites _do_ have a certain influence on the left, but also the right. This isn’t a one-sided issue. With the technology they provide us, of course they’re going to have influence. On everybody!”

   “Oh, no doubt,” Enckelman added. “But doesn’t that make you wonder how the Hork-Bajir manage the same? Or, I should say, _Toby Hamee_ manages the same? The thing with them is that they don’t provide us with the technology and the scientific data. They don’t put money back into the economy unless it’s through tourism. Indirectly. Why, then, do they carry the same political influence? I’ll tell you why! Toby Hamee has got the political leaders in her claws. She has this tactic where she either gets things her way, or she claims discrimination or persecution! Do you remember two years ago? That whole thing about film crews in Yellowstone? Hamee would not let those discussions happen, because every time it was brought up she put her fingers in her ears and yelled _persecution_.”

   Joanna stopped him, and I felt a cold dread as I realised that my turn was about to come. Enckelman had made his argument, and judging by Morris’ reaction, I was the only one there to refute. If only I had known half of what he was talking about…

   “Okay, so obviously we won’t let you go unchallenged today,” Joanna uttered. “We have Taku Kelmut here as well, currently working alongside Toby Hamee over in the capitol. We’ve heard a lot about you Taku, but this is your first time on a major cable news station, correct?”

   Then I appeared on the screen, my camera on the right and hers on the left. I clamped my jaw shut to hide my nerves and coughed out a “Yes.”

   “I’ll try to go easy on you.” Enckelman offered with a cruel grin. How genuine he was, I wasn’t sure.

   “What do you think of Harry’s comments, Taku?” The host asked, giving me a supposedly easy route into the conversation. Almost a soft-ball.

   It didn’t feel so easy, however. Already, my mind was a mess, and it began to stall as I tried to process all the points that Mr Enckelman had brought up. Should I go ahead with some pre-arranged speech that meant nothing in the context of the situation? Should I try to rebut his points that all seemed a little over my head? Should I defend Toby?

   I looked to her for an answer. She was still at the far side of the room, her face like a rock even despite Enckelman’s criticism. Not even a twitch to point me in the right direction. She was certainly not joking when she left me with the responsibility.

   Then I realised that the Humans in New York were growing curious. With my mind scrambling, I must have been sat there dribbling for a good few seconds with no answer.

   Joanna blinked, and with concern asked, “Can you hear us, Taku?”

   Already, I felt like a complete embarrassment. “Yes. Sorry.”

   “What are your thoughts on Harry’s comments?” Came the question again.

   I had to say something, so I blurted out the first lines that came to my head. Perhaps that was not the wisest thing to do. “Yellowstone needs money. We need to educate our people, and we need to treat them when they are sick. And Toby isn’t trying to trick the politicians into voting her way, she just… well… she does her best for our people, and fights back whenever our rights are infringed upon.”

   It seemed like a pretty solid answer to me at the time, but as I watched Enckelman’s head appear on the television screen beside my own, he was gazing down at me with a confident smile and a slight shaking of the head. It was a bad sign, and his reply almost cut through the end of my own.

   “She isn’t trying to trick them. She’s bullying them into making the decisions that she wants,” He stated matter-of-factly. “And I think what you said first was very telling, Taku. You need to educate your people, treat them, whatever. That’s fine! But so do we, Taku. That’s the whole point! Our schools and hospitals are being cut, whereas the ones that Toby needs are not!”

   I was flustered, and I knew that his response was much better than my own. My only chance was to push aside my Hork-Bajir brain and let the problem-solving seer mind take full control. I needed to lose my emotional clutter and be more like Toby, a stone house of logic and clarity.

   But I broke. My eyes flashed open and my head stopped working. Suddenly, all I could see were the bright lights of the makeshift studio and the expectant faces of Harry and Joanna gazing suspiciously into the soulless screens. I stared into space, the reality of the situation simultaneously vanishing and slamming me mercilessly in the face.

   Millions of eyes watched as I fell silent. The discussion was over before it had even begun.

   “Is everything okay, Taku?” I heard Joanna press. “Can you hear us?”

   “Yes,” I grunted. “I can hear you. I’m just… I need to think.”

   They must have grown impatient, because I was seemingly cut from the conversation. The host moved the subject on and, apparently taking my place, challenged Mr Enckelman’s points.

   “In all fairness,” She began. “Governor Hamee’s position gives her no real place to challenge on issues that don’t concern the Hork-Bajir or Yellowstone National Park. Perhaps, in a different position, she would be a vocal opponent of the spending cuts in general. Surely that should be something to consider.”

   Enckelman took it in and placed his hand pensively against his chin. “She has been given so many chances to speak out against the spending cuts, and yet she never has done! She approaches the senate and the house and demands that _her_ money isn’t cut. _Demands_! And she gets it her way every time, Joanna.”

   I knew that I needed to speak up. Every second spent in silence was another seed of embarrassment implanted in my psyche. And once he had finished that particular rant, I came up with a sentence or two that would bring me over the threshold.

   “Our people need the funding,” I blurted, my face suddenly blinking back onto the screen. “We have just come out of a war that has left many injured, physically and mentally. Without our funds, how would we care for them?”

   “Are you serious?!” Was his disbelieving reply. “That was a _decade_ ago, Taku. Yeah, some may have been injured during that war, but have you forgotten entirely that America is currently involved in two wars of our own right now, with hundreds of our soldiers coming home with missing limbs and post-traumatic stress?! Do _your people_ have some priority over those brave soldiers, because that is certainly what Governor Hamee believes!”

   “Well, no… Humans have just as much right as we do.” I clarified.

   “So then please explain why Yellowstone funds should not also be cut.”

   I clearly wasn’t as prepared as I should have been. His refutation was undeniable, and I had no intent of simply pushing it aside. It was true, and that was quickly dawning on me. Suddenly, I found myself trying to defend something that even I knew made little sense.

   Once more, I looked to Toby. It infuriated me, baffled me that she still displayed nothing. Not even a little concern for my predicament. I was sure that deep down, she had her reasons for her position on the matter, because she wasn’t so sly as to force a decision among (admittedly) weak Human politicians. I didn’t think she was.

   This was not my platform, but hers. I was an impersonator, and a poor one at that.

   I couldn’t pretend anymore. “I can’t.”

   It drew an awkward pause from the Humans, the host having no real idea of what to do for a good few seconds.

   Even Enckelman looked concerned for me, but though I knew that he was not a bad person, the reality of television kicked in, and he was forced to keep on top of the discussion. He brought back his cocky expression, and boasted. “Well that was even easier than I thought!”

    From then on, I was little more than a prop. I was largely left out of the rest of the discussion, and I never raised my voice unless I was directly spoken to. I was too embarrassed, too ashamed of my own naivety.

   But I listened in on their discussions with great intrigue. Maybe I had been ignoring the news for too long, because the topics brought up were new to me. It wasn’t much to be happy about.

   “Aside from that,” The host said, moving on from her previous point. “You mention a recent move by several prominent figures who are trying to change the rules about what establishes a national park. Specifically, you pointed out that the introduction of foreign species renders the idea meaningless, and that some would use this as an excuse to use the land for business.”

   “Precisely,” He concurred. “I mean, it’s been argued for years, but only now is it really starting to gain ground. The whole idea of a national park, as far as they’re concerned, is to preserve the land, and for it to be as natural as possible. Let’s be honest, Hork-Bajir aren’t native to Yellowstone! The issue that Governor Hamee faces now is that all these people are rallying to take away the status of national park from affected areas, which will allow businesses to come in and start whatever projects they have in mind.”

   I wanted to hear more. I almost spoke up, even, but likely all I would have said would be little more than a disbelieving gasp. Instead, I kept my silence, but allowed the clogs to churn it through my mind. It was a worrying piece of news, for sure, and I was surprised that Toby or Cassie hadn’t brought it up earlier. Another piece of information withheld, obviously.

   Annoyingly, that was the end of the segment, and the host brought it to a close. “On that note, I’ll thank you for coming on today. I’m sure you’ll be back to keep us updated.”

   She probably wasn’t talking to both of us.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

   In 1969, Humans took their first tentative steps onto the Earth moon. Neil Armstrong was the first to step foot on the surface of an entirely new world.

   Michael Jackson was a famous singer. He had 13 number one’s in the US charts. And then, somehow, his skin changed colour. The reason, I did not know.

   That was enough reading. Besides, I was near the end of the encyclopaedia, and it was beginning to delve into modern times. I would read the rest later, but at that moment I wanted to relax. Maybe I would sit in my small hut of numerous random Human contraptions and gaze out into nothingness.

   It had expanded over the last months. What was just a small hut where I kept my books and miscellaneous items was now at least twice the size, and held about three times as much stuff. Most of it was from Clarissa, of course, but half of it had never really been explained to me. I was curious enough to play around with everything, but I found that time was too short to delve too deeply into my ponderings.

   My most prized possession of them all was the photograph of myself with Mother and Father, now brightly placed within a golden frame and hung on the southernmost wall of the building. So strange how something so simple could stick in my mind, even knowing that both my parents were nearby, probably bickering over the lack of edible food again.

   There was a reason for that. Winter was upon us again, and the temperature in the park was rapidly decreasing. Father was doing his best to find good bark to store, but some pesky animal had knocked it all to the ground where it was left overnight in a puddle.  Now, it was beginning to snow quite heavily, which made harvesting much more difficult. Lenk was making a head start, but Father was dawdling.

   It wasn’t important, though. Father didn’t offer to take me out harvesting anymore. More often than not, he thought I was away doing paperwork or reading one of my books. It was unfortunately true most of the time. I spent more time with his inky counterpart on my back wall than I did with him, and it saddened me.

   I didn’t have a picture of Toby yet, but I didn’t really need one. I still saw her regularly at the Yellowstone Centre, but she seemed so much more distant since that terrible live interview. Things had gotten worse since then, and I put it down to her having to pick up the pieces that I had smashed onto the ground before her.

   I still had not heard the last of it. It was a total embarrassment, and seeing the replays only made it worse. My interview was now being used by our opponents to discredit both myself and Toby to devastating effect. If that wasn’t bad enough, I had become a rather unflattering internet meme. My visits to the worldwide web were infrequent before, but now I did my very best to avoid getting anywhere near it.

   My work at the centre was plodding along as usual, but it had long since lost its intrigue. The walls were shallow now, and its inhabitants intimidating. I dreaded being there when responsibility, even if minimal, was weighing on my shoulders. I was in a serious morale low, and from somewhere I could sense that it wouldn’t get better soon. It was as if the trees all around were advertising doom to me through silent groans.

   At least I had my family and friends. Cassie and Clarissa were around often, and they had never changed their tone around me. My Hork-Bajir friends the same, but my actions on television and at work meant nothing to them anyway. My family understood my pain, but even they couldn’t quite grasp why I had gotten so upset. That was totally understandable, however, because nationwide ridicule and disappointment was a foreign concept to them.

   I placed my dog-eared encyclopaedia back on its shelf and stood up to stretch and yawn away my drowsiness. I scratched myself just at the perfect time when somebody familiar poked their head through the doorway.

   “Relk find!” She barked ecstatically. “Find Taku, find Taku!”

   For anybody else, I would have sighed and made an excuse to evade their attention. For Relk, it was a little different.

   “Hello, Relk,” I replied, curious as to what game she was indulging in. I strolled over to stand in the hut opening beside her. “It’s good to see you today.”

   She nodded and swung on the hut’s supporting branches to my other side. I felt her warm breath on my shoulder. “See Taku good. Relk bored.”

   “Oh,” I smiled. “You’re bored? Maybe we should find something to do.”

   “Something. Find new tree.” Relk suggested, flinging herself to the next tree over with expectation that I would follow.

   I made sure to switch off my battery-powered lamp before leaving my hut, but this time I could not be bothered to clean up any mess as I normally would. This was my free time, of which I had very little, and to spend it with Relk felt like the most joyous thing that I could do with it.

   “So Relk,” I panted as I followed her through the snow-covered trees around my home. “Which way are we going?”

   She ceased her unrestrained bouncing and came to rest on a stable branch to consider. “To springs.”

   “The springs? But that’s the other way.” I explained, pointing a finger in the direction we had just come from.

   Relk huffed as if I was being foolish. “Yes. Springs that way.”

   I blinked and tried to sense her reasoning. “So… why are we going this way?”

   “Pluk and Ruga this way.” She told.

   I knew that my mood shouldn’t have taken a downturn, and I hope that I didn’t seem that way, but it did. “Pluk and Ruga? I thought it was just us.”

   She laughed and began to move through the trees again. I followed. “Pluk and Ruga come. Ask for Taku. Relk get.”

   Some deep part of my mind was very much disappointed that my two lifelong friends would be joining us. Their company was always welcomed, but this time seemed just a little different. Relk was different. For the last few months, I had been attempting to put it into perspective and had soon come to the conclusion that it was a little something called a “crush”. It was a common plot-piece in many television shows, and was also prevalent in Human music. It seemed small to me at the time, like it was a side story that needn’t worry me, but its implications were huge. If I were Human, it would be of little issue. Humans are generally polygamous, at least judging by Clarissa’s peers. Hork-Bajir, on the other hand, are strictly monogamous. My little crush on Relk, if returned, could well decide a huge chunk of my life.

   I put the thought aside, and instead considered how to greet my other friends, even if I wasn’t in the correct mood. I knew exactly how it would begin…

   “Snow cold!” said Pluk, nothing out of the usual.

   “Pluk always say snow cold,” Ruga grumbled. “Ruga know. Snow cold. Ruga feet cold.”

   Pluk whined and pulled his left foot out of the snow to give it a moment’s peace from the bitter cold. I watched in amazement from my warm perch in a tree.

   “Pluk,” I sighed. “If your feet are cold, why are you standing in the snow?”

   He gawked at me, dumbfounded. Then he laughed. He and Ruga joined me in the tree, and we continued our greetings.

   “Taku take long time,” Ruga commented. “Fat toes slow Taku down.”

   Pluk laughed again, finding great amusement in the oft-told joke. “Taku slow. And Taku not here much.”

   “Excuse me?” I said, not quite understanding his point.

   Ruga clarified for him. “Taku always gone.”

   Another little stab of guilt. Not intentional, but surely crippling. “I’m sorry. I’m not around much. I have work to do with the Humans.”

   I expected a response, some form questioning or furthering of the conversation, but they instantly dropped it. It was fine, apparently. I then realised, once again, that my friends weren’t Humans, and last-wordism was not necessary. My friends accepted it as much as I would accept it from them, and that actually made me feel a little warmer, even in the cold winter air.

   Our little journey began. It wasn’t much of a journey, to be honest. It was just getting lost in snowy woodland with no real purpose and no real destination. A casual, unguided exploration, which was fine by me. I was able to spend time with my friends after so long, able to hear about all their little misadventures since I last interacted with them. Pluk told us all about the time he climbed onto the roof of the park’s tourism centre and had to be ushered down by security, and I laughed at how benign it was. We must have ended up a few miles from home, heading southward towards the nearest Human town, deciding on the way to visit the springs but continue even further into new territory.

   Eventually, as the sun began to set once again toward the horizon, we found a new colony already preparing for the cold night ahead. We said hello and continued onwards until we could see the distant lights of the Human settlement over a hill. Here, we agreed to rest before making our way back home.

   It began with a snowball to my face and Ruga laughing in a victorious tone. I grumbled and started to form one of my own, picking up a pile of snow and squeezing it into a rough ball shape. My throw was partly accurate, catching him on the shoulder.

   “Taku bad throw.” Ruga commented, slashing a chunk of bark from the nearest tree.

   “I know,” I huffed. “Throwing is not something I do that much. Besides, you aren’t any better!”

   “Taku and Ruga both bad.” Pluk interrupted. Before we could object, he launched a snowball straight into Ruga’s mouth from distance, just as the bark chunk was heading for the very same destination.

   Ruga barked and spat out the snow, shaking his head. “Agh! Not funny, Pluk! Now Ruga mouth cold!”

   His complaint didn’t stop Pluk’s laughter, nor mine or Relk’s. His sulking only made it funnier.

   “Relk see Humans,” We heard her mention. I looked in the direction where she pointed and spotted them myself. “By trees. Have things!”

   “Things” was vague. I could see that the two Humans had their camping gear. A tent was set up, as was a sheet on the ground so that they didn’t have to sit in the cold snow. In the freezing weather they were suitably clothed, their figures made only distinct by thick black coats, probably with several layers beneath.

   It was definitely unusual to see Humans camping around at that time of year, but not unheard of. They didn’t seem to have noticed us so far, and they probably couldn’t hear us from where they sat. The falling snow made our presence difficult to spot.

   “They must be very cold.” I said, rubbing at my neck.

   “Give blankets!” Ruga suggested with a mouth full of food. “Blankets warm.”

   I smiled. “I’m sure they have their own. Let’s not bother them. I’m hungry.”

   I truly was. My stomach was starting to complain, and I knew that my friends were the same way. We headed for the trees, and though my friends were happy with plain old pine, I felt the need to search for something a little special.

   In foreign lands, it was obviously difficult to search for more sought-after bark. Not impossible, though. I pounced through the fields of mediocre trees, using my sense of smell to guide me in the direction of something a little more appetising. It would have been pretty simple if the temperature was higher. The cold was slowing me down.

   But I found something that caught my nose. The stunning scent of living bark hooked my left nostril, and I found myself drawn to a very thick tree on the side of a small clearing. The bark was pungent but unavoidably appealing, and within seconds I was stuck to it like a magnet, any dignity I had dashed to the ground. I didn’t care.

   It was vaguely familiar in my mind, perhaps something that I had eaten before as a child, and indeed the texture was not entirely new. I slammed my elbow blade into the surface and tore down with the other, forming enough tears in the surface to remove a significant chunk of the delicious tree skin.

   I held the excessively large block in my snout for a while, lapping at the surface with my tongue and gazing aimlessly into the distant horizon of white. After those moments of having a completely blank, contented mind, the over-contemplative part of my brain reared its head. Usually, it would think of nothing other than work and the opinions that others had of me in those occupations, and I hated those thoughts, but today it was much different. I was thinking of Relk again, and suddenly, I didn’t want to greedily devour the entire chunk by myself. I wanted to share it with her. I wanted to share everything.

   And then I saw a flower. A batch of them. That may not seem unusual in the outdoors, but in the midst of winter with the ground a thick blanket of snow, seeing some poking upwards was very strange. It was mind-blowingly coincidental and equally fortunate that the flowers were visually appealing, too. Perhaps the Human Luck gods were smiling down upon me.

   The flowers were perfect. A little frosty, but that was to be expected. I made my way down and gently picked them from the ground, making certain not to damage them in any way. I inspected them closely, and found them to be a very attractive, deep purple colour, its petals fully intact despite the terrible conditions. How I could find them in this state in the dead of winter confused me. Nevertheless, I knew just how to use them.

   I sat down in the cold snow, placing the flowers on the underside of the bark chunk and letting that sleep on my lap. The images of how it would happen ran through my head on repeat, lulling me into  a semi-slumber where my eyes closed, and I could almost touch the scenarios played out in my imagination.

   Relk would accept my gifts. A large piece of gorgeous bark and picking of perfectly conditioned flowers, who wouldn’t? Then we would gaze into each other’s eyes, leave the other two to their games, and head back home to discuss a future together. We would be one from that moment on.

   Such a big moment, and I didn’t even feel the slightest tingle of nerves. Maybe it was because I knew that she had the same feelings. I saw it in her, in the way that she looked at me and the way she always came to me first when our group would go on our adventures. The only thing missing was the first move, and I was about to provide it.

   But there was something that nagged me in my little daydreams, and it pulled me just about back to reality. I recalled our childhood, back when we both attended the local school tree, and how I used to tease her, mostly about the size of her snout. I remember upsetting her a few times and excluding her from some of our games. Kid stuff, but I had never apologised for my behaviour. I needed to.

   She probably would have forgotten. It isn’t in a Hork-Bajir’s nature to hold a grudge, and she had probably forgotten about it all long ago. My mind, however, worked differently, and I remembered every deplorable word that I spoke to her in those days.

   Maybe, I thought, my two gifts would act both as an apology and to show her my intent to become one with her. It seemed perfectly reasonable, and I knew that she would not refuse.

   I then wondered why I was still making decisions. They were already made. I got up and jumped back into the trees to head back the way I came, holding the bark and the flowers in my left hand. Jumping back to the others with one hand was slow, but I was thankful to see that they hadn’t strayed far. Pluk hadn’t, anyway, and he sat crouched at his pine tree, munching hungrily at several small bark slabs. He blanked at me when I pounced up beside him.

   “Taku back.” He noticed.

   “Yes, I went a little further than you, I think.”

   Pluk smiled and then looked down to inspect my findings. His eyes widened with interest, and he suddenly seemed much less occupied with his own collection. “What Taku have?”

   “Oh, nothing,” I grinned. “Just some bark and some grass.”

   Pluk didn’t take that as a satisfactory answer and took a closer look at what I held. “Taku find bark. Smell good. Where?”

   “That way,” I said, pointing the way I came from. “There’s plenty there.”

   “Taku show.” Pluk suggested, a big pleading grin over his face. He moved, ready to speed off in the direction I would lead him.

   “No!” I said, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll show you soon. Right now, I was going to give these to Relk.”

   Pluk cocked his head, the wheels sluggishly churning within. “Give for gift?”

   “Yes,” I compromised. “A gift. Just a gift.”

   My tall friend didn’t seem overly enthused in any way, and sat back down to nibble on his own food. “Taku show later.”

   I felt a little awkward, but did not let it deter me. “Pluk, do you know where Relk went?”

   He smiled and chomped down the last of his bark chunk with a loud gulp. “Relk not here. Pluk show.”

   He quickly jumped up to his feet, stretched his legs and said, “Taku follow.” With that, he leapt from his high branch to one about twenty feet below, before rocketing northward in a straight line path. I struggled to keep up, having never been quite as athletic as he, but his direct path made it easy to follow.

   We arrived right back where we started, emerging into the snowy opening that looked over the Human settlement in the far distance. Clearly, Relk had not wandered far according to Pluk’s knowledge. Though I didn’t see her at first, I noticed Ruga nearby making a start on a crude snowman, putting a pair of eyes on even before the main structure was built.

   “Ruga,” I said, announcing our presence. “You’re building a snow-Hork without us?”

   His looked up to me, his eyes betraying a sense of guilt. “Ruga not know Taku want to.”

   “Well… I don’t really,” I shrugged, lifting my left foot from the snow to grant it brief freedom from the freezing snow. “Where is Relk?”

   “Relk see Humans,” He explained. “Ruga make snow-Hork eyes.”

   I sighed. The Humans would more than likely get in the way, as would my friends’ interest in making snowmen. Nevertheless I looked to the horizon where the Humans were sat, the silhouette of Relk strolling towards them. The Humans still had their backs turned.

   I was going to turn away and help Ruga with the snow-Hork, but in the corner of my eye I saw sudden movement. The Humans had moved.

   In the falling snow it was difficult to see, but I lunged forward to gain a better view when I noticed a lot of rapid movement and Human shouting. Something very bad was happening, and after the smallest of hesitations, I started to run, leaving Pluk and Ruga utterly perplexed behind.

   As I moved to within twenty feet of the scene, Relk collapsed. I felt my chest clutching and my breathing quicken as the panic rushed over me. I increased my pace and bounded to her side.

   There was a lot of blood, and I saw that her eyes were distant, unseeing.

   Then my ears picked up the sound of rustling. Thinking on my toes, I looked to my right to see the Humans beside their tents. One was reaching inside, and something told me that whatever it was, I didn’t want it anywhere near my fallen friend.

   I forced myself to do something that nothing in my instinctual brain wanted to do. I pounced at the Human reaching into the tent, intending to push him away and disarm him. Just as I vaguely suspected, I saw the barrel of a gun revealed from the tent.

   The second Human shouted a warning to his companion, but I was already flying at him, flinging my arm forward to knock his. He tried to raise it at me, but I was already far too close, and my hand flicked at his, sending the dangerous weapon through the air.

   Unarmed, the Human yelped out, clutching at the hand that I had whipped at. Now that he had no effective weaponry, he began to back away. His friend was holding a knife up in the air to my right, but he remained motionless. I cringed as I saw Hork-Bajir blood dripping down the entirety of the metallic blade.

   One small knife against a Hork-Bajir was not a fight for the wise. The two Humans exchanged glances and started to run.

   I let them go, my attention unhesitant in turning back to Relk. She remained sprawled on the floor, snow slowly laying a white sheet over her body. The blood flow was slowing in the cold air, what was already spilt forming a gruesome painting around her head. I crawled to her side and began to make my preliminary observations, my mind struggling with the panic still circulating in my bloodstream.

   Even before checking for life signs, I could tell that she was gone. Her eyes remained open, staring emptily up to the sky, and looking down I could see her wounds. Several slices ravaged her neck, deep openings where a knife had entered and pulled to the side. Her throat had been torn out, and evidence of at least three separate wounds came to my attention as I wiped away some excess blood. I doubted that the effort was in self-defence for many reasons, and then I felt utterly stupid for not giving chase to the Humans as they ran.

   There was still a chance to catch them, though. I could use Pluk and Ruga, and we could capture them, question their motives and hand them over to the Human police. Justice would be served, and my fellow Hork-Bajir would have her killers punished for their crime.

   But all hope died. In the distance, barely visible under the falling snow, I saw the bright red of a car’s rear lights, and with it came the roar of an engine. The Humans had transportation, and any chance of a chase was over.

   Effectively. I wanted so much to chase anyway, to see if I could beat them in my own environment. But then I looked down to Relk’s corpse and I felt far too weak to move an inch.

   I was thinking too hard. Everything was an attempt at an excuse and a reason. As soon as I realised it, I stopped and put all my focus into my grief and started to weep over her, my hand holding her chest.

   “What happen?”

   Ruga’s voice reverberated through my head. The question confused me, baffled me. It even enraged me to a degree. I turned my head up and saw that my two friends were standing over me, concern on their faces. I found myself growing extremely angry.

   “She’s dead!” I yelled back to Ruga. “Can you not see that?!”

   “Pluk know what dead means,” Pluk said solemnly. “Relk go to Mother Sky. Relk sleep.”

   His sincerity, and Ruga’s following expression of grief, did nothing to tame my anger. “Why didn’t you two help? Why were you just standing there?!”

   They pouted and lowered their heads. Ruga spoke up, saying, “Ruga not know. See Relk fall over. See Taku hit Human. Humans run away.”

   The excuse was unintelligent and unhelpful, but my rage started to fall away. They didn’t understand it. Anything of it. They didn’t even know that the Humans had attacked her.

   “I didn’t hit him for no reason, Ruga,” I explained before any false messages were received. “The Human killed Relk. He was going to kill me, too.”

   Pluk sobbed. “Why Human do?”

   My answer arrived at my throat. I thought it was the correct answer. However, as it tried to force its way out, my throat clenched when the grief I had been holding back took over once again. I bowed my head and laid my blades on Relk’s own.

   Together, the three of us took our time to grieve over our beloved friend. The journey back was long and painful, and we carried her on our shoulders. Her family would want to see her one last time.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

   The funeral was held by the river that ran through our tribe’s home. It was mostly our own locals, but there were a few members of other tribes who also knew our friend.

   Hork-Bajir funerals share commonalities with the Human equivalent. Those who knew Relk best gave their heart-felt words in front of the solemn crowd as her burial place was decorated with a collection of fine barks. Flowers weren’t common at this time of the year.

   I kept mine. I didn’t want to part with them.

   In fact, I refrained from speaking at her funeral. I stayed at the back of the crowd and gazed on with an unfocused stare, my ears picking up the words but my mind refusing the process them. Pluk and Ruga tried to get some words out of me, but they eventually gave up and nearly stood around as a silent comfort. However, as soon as the funeral was over and their attention was distracted, I escaped to the trees and took myself to a secluded location a mile away. There, I found a perch high up the canopies where nobody would find me, and sat with my flowers.

   I wept freely for some time. Guilt was slung around my neck like a thick wintery scarf, and the grief I felt for a friend that was getting so close was the cold that ravaged my skin. The real cold, the freezing temperature of the park in the most frozen time of the year, meant nothing in that moment of sorrow.

   Relk was gone, and that was the terrible thought that constantly oscillated in my mind, and I couldn’t bear to make excuses for my own responsibility. My mistake was in not verifying that the Humans were trustworthy. In my time among Human society, I had learnt so many lessons. Most important of these was not to trust a Human like one would trust a Hork-Bajir. Humans can be very dangerous, and I knew that perfectly well.

   So why did I trust them? Why did I leave my admittedly gullible friends to fulfil my own selfish pleasures? I was an idiot, and had I not been, Relk would still be alive.

   Her death was my fault, and the fault of the terrible Humans who were so evil as to take an innocent life.

   And I tried to suss their reasons. Surely, the Humans had a motive to attack Relk. Maybe she came across as threatening, or she took them by surprise and spooked them.

   But those reasons made no sense. I had seen what happened, and neither seemed plausible.

   One thing was for certain though: The Humans weren’t looking to make their own excuses. After returning Relk’s corpse to her family, Pluk, Ruga and I ran back to the scene to search for anything that would lead to the Humans’ identification, but everything had vanished. The tents, the mats, and everything else. In the time it took for us to return, the Humans had made their way back and removed any evidence. They even managed to find their gun and remove it for the deep snow.

   It was then when I felt utterly defeated. Justice could not be done, and there would be no relief for my sorrow.

   I held the flowers in my hand and inspected the petals. They were still so perfect and bright, and I intended to keep them that way.

   I realised that I had stopped weeping, my focus now sat upon the flowers. I held them close and bowed my head, but when I heard shuffling from the next tree over I pulled myself close to the trunk. It was my alone time, and there were few people that I wanted to see at that time.

   Least of all, Toby. Her face appeared behind the closest branch and spotted me with her terrible stony glare. I looked away, a clear sign that I didn’t require her presence. It irritated me greatly that, somehow, she was able to find me in my secluded location, almost as if she could sense my presence through the air and the trees.

   “Taku.” She spoke, crawling closer.

   I turned further away and mumbled, “Go away. I want to be alone.”

   I never expected that to stop her, and indeed it didn’t. Toby was never one to give up that easily, and she sat herself down on the thick branch directly in front of me. Sensing that she was in a comforting mood today, I decided against running and leant my head against the tree trunk while still avoiding eye contact.

   “And I want to talk to you.” She countered.

   “How did you find me?” I asked with a frustrated sigh. “I deliberately made sure nobody was following.”

   “Then you didn’t check hard enough,” She suggested. “I followed you out here.”

   “To watch me cry to myself like a hurt _kawatnoj_? Why?”

   She shook her head and finally expressed a concerned look. “Every one of us grieves, Taku. There’s no shame in that.”

   With her emotions now becoming visible, I dropped my own defence and made eye contact with my fellow seer. “How did you find out about all this? How did you know I would do this?”

   “News spreads very quickly,” She mentioned. “As soon as I heard that one of our people was killed by Humans, I followed the story back here. I’m sorry to hear that the victim was Relk, a close friend of yours.”

   I huffed. “Nothing is beyond your investigative ability, is it?”

   “Don’t be like that, Taku,” Toby responded, her voice still calm and subdued. “I only want to help. Please, let me.”

   Despite my disapproval of the situation, I would not stop her. Even though we had been going through a very rough period, we were still very close, and I trusted her wholly, much more so that the Humans had betrayed me. “Okay.”

   My invitation instantly accepted, and she took my hand in hers, scooching closer and providing me with some extra warmth against the cold winter air. I was reluctant beforehand, but as soon as that warming sensation arrived, I embraced instinctively and wholly.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

   Mother called to me, beginning to grow frustrated. “Taku help Pok!”

   Her shouts had been going on for a good few minutes now, but they were not calls of distress. They were definitely whiny, but she was in no danger. I suspected the reason for her cries, and I was in no rush to aid her.

   “Please, wait for a little bit!” I responded, grumbling and placing my encyclopaedia back on its home shelf, making sure to leave a bookmark just as I was about to close it shut. Being freed of my relaxation tool, I hauled myself to my feet and stuck my snout out of my hut door to see what was going on. I could see Mother in the distance staring right back at me with pleading eyes.

   Feeling momentary guilt for taking my time, I took a deep breath and ran upwards in her direction back to the home tree. There she sat on Father’s wicker platform, legs splayed out in front of her and several chunks of bark between. I hung over her, gawking down at the collection she had amassed.

   “What is wrong, Mother?” I asked of her, blinking at the bark.

   She gazed up at me, her cheery expression having returned. “Taku come!”

   “Yes, Taku is here.” I sighed, lowering myself beside her.

   “Taku help Pok,” She repeated, pointing a finger at the bark. “Taku count good.”

   “I… Yes,” I stuttered. “You want me to count them?”

   Mother nodded and sat back to give me a better view. Not like I needed it.

   “There are eight pieces, Mother,” I told her. “I thought you would be able to count that.”

   She looked terribly embarrassed, and I quickly gathered that my mathematical skills were not all that she wished for. “Need Taku count. Last bark for cold moons.”

   With elegant timing, there was a series of thumps from the other end of the platform. Coming into view, Father and Lenk brought with them four bundles of bark, one under each arm. They dropped it all onto the platform, and Mother looked more embarrassed still. She whined and looked up at me, knowing that her already terrible lie had been turned on its head.

   But I was the one to feel guilty. So much time was spent away from my family that she was desperately trying to grab my attention, even if her methods to do so came across as pathetic and naïve. In spite of this being one of her worst attempts, I sat beside her and watched as Father and Lenk packed our new food supply away.

    Mother latched onto me like a lost dog returned to its owner. “Not see Taku for long time. Where Taku be?”

   “I’ve been doing some homework, Mother. I’m supposed to be going back to the centre tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to it.”

   “Centre nice,” She offered without any prior knowledge. “Taku do work good, but Taku work lots.”

   “I know that,” I grunted. “And I wish that I didn’t have to. I’d rather stay with you and Father and Lenk. I’m happiest here.”

   “Then stay,” Mother suggested with more of a demanding tone. “Taku happy here, so Taku stay.”

   “It’s not simple like that, Mother,” I explained vaguely, my eyes still trailing the other members of my immediate family. “There is still so much to do. And I’d best do some more now.”

   “Taku go?” She pined. “No, Taku stay. Eat bark.”

   “Sorry,” I excused myself. “But I promise that I will come back after I’ve sorted my paperwork.”

   She huffed disappointedly. “How long?”

   “An hour or so.”

   That word meant nothing to her, and she just stared at me, expecting a more meaningful answer.

   “Before the sun sets, Mother.” I smiled. That was something she understood, and she knew that it wasn’t long before sunset.

   Father overheard and clutched at his tail. “Maybe Taku see campfire when moon come.”

   “Oh, yes,” I muttered. “I missed it last night, didn’t I. I’ll see it tonight, though.”

   I took the following silence as my cue to leave, but as ever I caught a glance from Lenk. Still so unsure as to how he felt, I stored his facial expression in my brain and puzzled it on the way back to my hut.

   He still envied my position as _seer_. How I wished to explain how _I_ was the one to be envious, but he would never understand.

   I sighed when I came to a standstill in the centre of my dimly lit hut. It was the same as ever, but for the flowers kept in a small glass vase by the far window. Relk’s flowers, sat beside the framed photograph of my family on my shelf of loved possessions. I lifted my claw and touched a petal, feeling it rub against my skin.

   Good memories, I thought. Those would be what I cherish. And there were plenty of good memories. We had so much fun in that year as friends.

   I needed to move my mind over to something else. Something to take my attention, and I remembered the paperwork that I was meant to do. They were mostly files regarding _CrescentCreations_ , who were still filming their documentary somewhere in another part of the park. I could do it at that moment and be done with it. After all, it was just sorting the files into an appropriate order.

   I didn’t want to. I had been doing that all morning and had barely had time to do what I enjoyed. I had spent a measly three minutes reading my encyclopaedia before Mother called me away, and I was so nearly finished. Just a few more pages to go now and I could move onto another informative piece of literature.

   Why not? It wouldn’t take me long and I could do the paperwork some other time. I sat down in my comfortable chair and pulled the book from my tiny makeshift desk, pulled open to the dog-eared page and started to read again.

   Since the book ran in a chronological order, the end sections were about modern times. The 21st Century, to be exact. I read that, though Human life was as peaceful as it had ever been, the planet was still ravaged by war, and that was greatly reflected in the encyclopaedia. It upset me deeply, but I had mostly overcome that feeling. Once you’ve read of war so many times, it starts to become familiar, as vaguely explained as it was in the book.

   America was engaging in wars in Iraq, Afghanistan - The War on Terror, as is was described in the book. There was ongoing fighting between Israel and Palestine, too.  I read the pages on them, soaked up the information, and took special note of the number killed that appeared in small blue fact boxes placed strategically on the designated pages. It meant more to me than it used to when I was reading about previous wars.

   There was another war, too. The Yeerk War was given its fair share of detail, even though it lacked some information that others had plentifully.  However, it spawned further pages, most notably on our people. I would get to that soon, but I glanced firstly over the war details.

   It was not something that I was familiar with. My experience had been down to the first-person stories of my fellow Hork-Bajir who had endured it, and apart from that I had never really been that bothered about it. It was in the past, and I had always been told to look forward by Toby and my Human friends. Now, though, I was learning some objective details.

   I learned of the Yeerks and the Andalites. On their own full pages they had pictures displaying their appearance, paragraphs explaining their cultures. A section on the Yeerk force’s eventual demise and the beginning of the Andalite/Human alliance.  Images of Andalite and Yeerk fighters and ships. Gedds, Taxxons, Sstram…

   And Hork-Bajir, of course. We had our own page and I was thankful to see that it was wholly favourable. It mentioned that we were Yeerk shock troops, but with that aside it showed us in a very positive light. I was relieved, but knew that I didn’t need to be. Paranoia had again been nagging in my ear.

   Then I saw the Yeerk war death tolls. Humans were estimated at around fifteen-hundred. Andalites were considerably more. Hork-Bajir were unknown. There were perhaps several reasons why, but I still grew deeply upset even though there was no number to mourn.

   I finished those pages without much of a hitch and turned to the next. I almost slapped myself for thinking that it was over when I saw the title of the next page: The Animorphs. Though I had heard little of the war, I had listened in on many murmurings about this group of Humans. I knew some of their names, and had a vague recollection that they aided Toby and her parents. Now I wanted to learn more.

   I learned one thing, and then I stopped.

   On the left-hand page, bang in the centre in bright and clear ink, was a sectioned image of each individual Animorph. There were six of them: Jake, Rachel, Marco, Aximili, Tobias…

   Cassie? I had heard of _Cassie the Animorph_ before in overheard conversations, but as I looked closely at the picture, her face was instantly recognisable.

   How had this been unknown to me for so long? I had been good friends with her for a very long time, been to meetings with her, sat through lectures with her and eaten dinners with her. How had it never come up in conversation? How did I never put the pieces together?

   I thought it extremely unlikely, but when I considered that the war was never part of our usual conversations, it made more sense that it had never been revealed to me. To think that I knew one of the Animorphs, the group that played a major role in defeating Yeerk forces, who…

   My claw turned a few pages back, and I looked again to the death tolls. Then I looked to Relk’s flowers, and I felt rage bubbling up through my skin. My breathing intensified, and I slammed the book shut. I didn’t care if I hadn’t marked the page I was on.

   I also didn’t care if I missed the campfire that night, because I wouldn’t make it back in time anyway. I leapt from my hut and ran to the south with my mind a blur of anger and betrayal. I had passed the threshold despite my resistance, and I was going to make my opinions perfectly clear to one that I used to trust so mindlessly. Not one single part of me resisted for that whole journey and I didn’t care whose feelings I would hurt. It was such a foreign feeling, and one so disgustingly Human.

   The distance was far, but it didn’t take me long as I rushed on through the dense patches of trees and the open lands, most of the time spent dwelling within my own compressed head. Before I knew it, I had my eyes on the taller of two buildings sat on a snowy hill. I bounced onto the open blanket of snow, jumped a wooden fence and ran toward my destination, the setting sun disappearing behind the white Human walls.

   Without second thoughts, I bounded to the door and slammed on it three times. I knew that somebody was home, because I saw golden light shining from a couple of windows on the north side of the building. Listening closely, I could hear sounds from within, possibly a radio or a television set.

   I became frustrated when no reply came, and so I banged again. Much harder this time. It granted me no relief, however, when the door finally creaked open with the grumblings of an annoyed Human.

   She appeared in the doorway, a quizzical look in her eyes. “What… Taku? Do you have to knock so hard?”

   “Cassie,” I grunted. “I wish to come in.”

   She blinked, but was only hesitant for a second until she opened up the door and allowed me to jump in. With whatever politeness I had left at that point, I dragged the snow and dirt from my feet onto the doormat, but once the front door had been shut, I let my anger burst from my mouth.

   I turned and exhaled a huff. “You are the Animorph. Cassie the Animorph.”

   I saw her raise an eyebrow and gaze up at me, confusion painted on her face. “Uh, yeah. Why? What’s the matter, Taku?”

   “You were one of them!” I asserted again, hands trembling and clutching at the air. “And you murdered my people!”

   Her eyes widened, now much more stunned than confused. She still struggled to find a suitable way to react, and I saw the emotions conflicting in her eyes. In the end, she went for the friendly approach, and she reached out to place a small Human hand on my arm, saying, “I think we should sit down and talk about a few things.”

   “No!” I shouted, stepping back out of her reach. “I’m not going to sit down. I don’t want to anymore! Tell me, how many did you kill?”

   “Kill?!” She gasped. I could see that she was growing frustrated, but she was keeping herself calm and refraining from anything that could be seen as offensive. “Taku… You’re talking about the war?”

   “Yes,” I seethed. “You killed my people, didn’t you?! You and those other Humans and the Andalites. Tell me how many!”

   She was backing away now, and I found that I was making her do so. I was walking toward her, pressing for her answer. Even then, I still sensed calm in her. “Taku, please, relax! I can explain but you need to calm down first.”

   I snorted. “Why should I? Why should I do you the courtesy when my people have been brutalised by yours? Violent, war-mongering, hateful Humans!”

   “Taku, stop!” She ordered, the presence in her tone multiplying drastically. “You need to let me explain it to you! Why are you so angry?!”

   “You killed my people! Why shouldn’t I be?!”

   Then a third voice entered and spooked me so much that I jumped back three feet from Cassie. My anger was momentarily displaced when I saw Toby enter the room from a nearby doorway.  “Taku!” She boomed. “Where are your manners?!”

   I was hesitant, completely silent as I tried to work my head around the situation. Cassie didn’t budge an inch, but it definitely wasn’t due to fear. She watched Toby, concerned.

   I looked between the two of them. I knew whose side Toby would pick, but the rage was still burning inside me. My attention remained on the calm Human. “Why won’t you tell me?!”

   She didn’t respond immediately, but she instead raised a flattened hand, directing it at Toby. I noticed Toby seething, having moved a few steps closer. Cassie was telling her to keep away.

   “I’ll tell you about the war,” She said with admirable calm. “Please, just let me pour you a drink and we can sit down. This isn’t you, Taku.”

   “Tell me now,” I demanded. I dropped my voice down by a few decibels, but I was still in absolutely no mood for messing around. My brain needed, craved the answers, not for its own pleasure but almost as closure. The Human had to admit to her crimes, and I would not stand to let her escape doing so. “I don’t want a drink and I don’t want to sit down. Tell me!”

   “That’s enough, Taku!” Toby barked, refusing to continue Cassie’s implemented silence. “Tell me why you are confronting Cassie like this!”

   Cassie again tried to push for calm, but now my attention turned to Toby, and her delicate Human voice was instantly lost in conversation. “She has murdered my people!” I yelled. “She won’t tell me how many, but I know that she did!”

   Toby’s eyes widened, but she stood firm in place. “You’re being foolish. Cassie has murdered no one! I cannot believe you would make such a hideous accusation after all she’s done for you!”

   “But she has,” I growled, squeezing the end of my tail so tightly that the skin began to rupture. “She was one of them… An Animorph! She killed!”

   “You’ve only just figured that out?!” Toby squeaked, jaw dropping in disbelief. “Good grief, Taku, that’s one of the most highly publicised facts in the country! How have you only just found that out?!”

   “I…” Froze. Though I didn’t doubt my primary concern, it did feel very wrong that I had lived all this time without knowing the group that almost single-handedly saved Earth from the Yeerks. “I never looked into it.”

   Toby huffed and shook her head with great disappointment. “If you don’t know facts like that, then I don’t know why I hired you to be Head of Media. How you could have skipped over that little fact is absurd, especially considering that you’ve spent so much time with Cassie!”

   I bowed my head, but that was only to admit my failure in that regard. Then I stared back at her, and returned to say, “It doesn’t matter. She killed my people, Toby!” I shouted, pointing a finger at Cassie who was stood with crossed arms and looking quite peeved.

   “Would you shut up for a moment?!” Toby retaliated. “It was war, Taku! You clearly don’t understand what that means, do you?”

   Cassie decided that then was the time to once again try for peace. “Toby,” She said, casting a disapproving look. “Could we take this somewhere where I won’t fear getting sliced in half?”

   “Yes,” Toby sighed, loosening her shoulders. “Would you like to handle this, or should I?”

   “We all can. Taku, can I tell you about what happened?”

   I was still shaking, drops of blood now running down my tail. Out of my quivering jaw came a squeaky, “Yes.”

   I was expecting talk. Then she reached for my hand, perhaps to lead me into another room or simply to hold it to provide comfort. I snatched it away, and she sighed and continued.

   “Yes, Taku, I was an Animorph. For some strange reason, I was picked out of every kid in the world to be one of the five pre-teens armed to fight off an entire invasion. I didn’t get a choice in that, and I sort of wish that it wasn’t me. I saw a lot of bad stuff. Horrible things, you know. You know about the Yeerks, right?”

   I nodded stiffly. “Vaguely…”

   “I saw them making people into slaves. And those slaves were… They had no control over their bodies,” She explained, looking up to me as she thought of the best way to paint the picture she wanted to create. “And those people – Humans and Hork-Bajir – had no control over their bodies. The Yeerks were in control. And those Yeerks wanted to kill us.”

   I quickly scanned my eyes to Toby. She was leaning back on her tail, arms folded over her chest. Her eyes were closed, too, and it was almost as if she was sleeping. She certainly wasn’t though, and I got the distinct feeling that I wasn’t going to leave Cassie’s home without her verbal wrath bearing down upon me.

   Cassie continued, “Sometimes situations would get a little tricky, and that could mean that, in order to continue, we had to eliminate threats. We never liked to. We hated to, but it was kill or be killed.”

   “So you _did_ kill my people.” I concluded, my quivering becoming problematic.

   “Yes,” Cassie admitted, not delving into the same anger that Toby was. “But you have to understand the situation.”

   “I understand that you killed!”

   “Enough, Taku!” Toby boomed, again giving up on her voluntary silence. “Cassie, I would like to take him outside. I hope you don’t mind.”

   Cassie looked extremely downhearted, her eyes to the floor. “Sure. Want a drink when you get back?”

   “Yes, thank you. I won’t be long.”

   I shook my head and barked my disapproval. “I’m staying here!”

   “No, you’re not. Outside,” Toby growled. “Now.”

   Cassie stepped aside as Toby marched in my direction, her presence shuffling me toward to front door. Unwilling to deny the person that I respected so dearly, I bowed my head, walked out of the door, and braced myself for what was to come.

   I was forced out into the snow, my feet collapsing into a mound that had been pushed aside from the pathway leading up to the door. Toby closed the door with admirable restraint behind her, and then proceeded to skewer me with the most distasteful stare I had ever witnessed. She took a moment to exhale, but I could see her tail twitching and her jaw shuddering.

   “What are you, thinking, Taku?!” Were the first words shouted. “How dare you come into Cassie’s house and throw around such hurtful accusations?!”

   I was not ready to back down quite then. “I feel perfectly justified in-”

   “Justified?! Do you have any idea whatsoever about what happened during the Yeerk war? Without Cassie fighting for our cause in that war, we probably wouldn’t even be here! I find it so utterly disgusting that you would accuse her of such crimes!”

   “She killed my people!” I battled, though my voice was losing its edge.

   “ _I_ killed my people!” She hissed.

   It stabbed me straight in the chest. My tail came in as balance reinforcement as I almost fell over backwards, my breath stolen as I heard the admission.

   Her eyes narrowed, and I saw just a smidgen of sympathy flash across her eyes before the tide of her anger came rushing back. “We all did, Taku. War is clearly not something that you understand. It took so much for us to earn our freedom, and it took more sacrifice than I would ever have wished, but what we have now is infinitely better than what we _would_ have had if those sacrifices weren’t made!”

   Now I was significantly weakened, the power to fight back drowned in her words. “I… I just…”

   “You are overreacting to the death of your friend, Taku,” She reasoned, voice calmed considerably. “I understand that you are in a lot of pain, but that is no excuse for what you just did. Cassie did an awful lot for you, and she still does to this day.”

   By now I was totally speechless, drooped forward in a defeated stance. Anger still fumed within me, but an army of other thoughts and feelings diluted it and confused me.

   “You will apologise to Cassie, but not now. I will explain your situation and try to defend you. Cassie is forgiving, but you must still treat her with the respect that she deserves. Is that clear?”

   I nodded meekly.

   “Good,” Toby chirped. “Don’t let it happen again, Taku. This really wasn’t you today, and I hope that it is an anomaly. I suggest you do some appropriate research into the topic that’s gotten you so riled up.”

   “I will.”

   She broke her stare from me and looked off to the setting sun as it breached the horizon. The sky was turning orange, giving the snow and shadows a haunting glow.

   “It’s late. You had best stay at my tree for tonight. Mother is making her best bark stew.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

   I let the phone ring. It buzzed frantically in my eye line, the nauseating tone vibrating my entire desk. I had no time for it, and I didn’t like using it anyway. I certainly didn’t have phone ears, and it always just sounded like one long muffle. Finally, it stopped and left my office to be quiet once again.

   Today, there was nobody in the room to roll their eyes and tell me to “pick up the goddamn phone.” I was being left to my own devices, and that was probably for the best. Even in the coldest months of the year, the park was abuzz with media activity, and the forms and folders were piling up on my desk. Beside those piles was a collection of broken pens, coated in spilt ink.

   All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing, the exhaling and inhaling of the tight office air. My pen-wielding hand was poised, hung over a dotted line on the next droning form, the words blurring together into a nonsensical stain on an otherwise useful piece of paper.

   People passed by the office regularly, but I paid them no attention and they did the same for me. Having only been back for a few days, I had already made it clear that I was not on top form, and indeed I was still trying to recover from the events over the last month. My head was still a mess, a cacophony of white noise from all different areas of my life, and it was slowly but surely breaking me down. Clarissa and Toby were the first to notice it happening and commented on it frequently. My other co-workers were beginning to notice too. I hadn’t spoken to Cassie since leaving her home.

   I avoided her totally, and I’m certain that she avoided me.

   As I contemplated my ongoing loneliness, somebody stood in on it and raised a curious voice. It was the weak, almost croaking voice of Jonathan. He was leaning forward into the office, chest covered by a thick stack of files held in both stumpy hands. “Taku? Hi, Taku.” He muttered.

   I was blinking up from my work, observing him and wondering what he had to show me. “Yes? What is it, Jon?”

   “I have a report for you, Taku,” He stuttered, slowly approaching my desk. “It’s, uh… it’s about _CrescentCreations_.”

   I raised an eyebrow at his apparent reluctance to enter my office. It had been like this for the last few days. Jon was a good friend of mine, but he seemed much more awkward around me than usual.

   I decided to rid him of anxiety. “Jon, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not volatile. Please don’t act so nervous.”

   “I… What?” He blinked, looking at me unknowingly. Clearly, he had heard nothing. Cassie and Toby may not have approved of my actions, but they weren’t the sort to spread rumours. “No, I just came to, uh, give you this stuff. It’s kind of… important.”

   He approached with the jumbled pile in his arms. I pulled some folders away from the corner of my desk so that he could safely drop the load without anything falling to the floor. What fell from his arms were a few files and numerous discs in transparent plastic wallets.

   “Important?” I asked, straining my eyes over the mess.

   “It’s about CrescentCreations,” He revealed. “We’ve had a few reports in from park staff. I don’t think you’re gonna like it, big guy.”

   I examined his difficult expression and then proceeded to pull a couple of files from the others. They were addressed to the centre, the first from a staff outpost on the eastern side of the park. I chose that one to skim and sat back in my seat, ignoring Jon for the moment.

   I would take in the fine details, absorbing the key words and organising it as a puzzle in my head. After the first page, the story was clear. I dropped the file on the desk, sighed heavily and sat back further into my seat, looking up to the ceiling.

   Jon found the bravery to offer part two of the disappointment. “Do you want to see the segments that they pointed out? There are a few. Eleven, I think.” He held one of the disc wallets up, the cruel glare shining horribly into my eyes as they came back down from the ceiling.

   I said nothing to him, but swept a hand to my left in order to push my idle laptop into view. (The laptop that I barely used because my claws were too big to use it effectively.) Jon took the hint and began the simple process of inserting the disc into the computer and finding a programme to play it through. Once he had completed the task, he turned the laptop towards me, and the video began to play.

   It was a segment taken from the CrescentCreations documentary. At the bottom left of the screen were some details in white block writing, the most important stating that it was a segment from _Episode One of Hork-Bajir Homes_. Behind the writing was a moving image of Yellowstone, probably filmed from a helicopter flying above.

   It seemed to be the end of the show’s introduction. Tribal-esque music came to a close in the background, and the images changed to the familiar sight of a Hork-Bajir stood lazily in a tree, clasping at some thin branches and gazing across her surroundings. So far, there were no issues.

   Things quickly took a turn for the worse, however, when narration started. If it could be called narration.

   In fact, it wasn’t narration at all. It was an interview.

   They asked for her name, which she dutifully provided.  It was all seemingly friendly as the interviewer proceeded to press his questions and she was willing to offer her answers. The thing that pained me most was just how unaware she was. She had no knowledge of cameras and interviews, and indeed half the time she was moving out of shot, asking admittedly ignorant questions about the crew’s purpose and reaching for the camera lens as if it were an amusing toy.

   It didn’t get any better. By their own admission they followed her for an entire day, the camera forever beside her as she continued with her daily routine. Her family were interviewed, too, as were some neighbours. It was all about life in their locality, what they did during the days and nights.

   But the crew wasn’t there to develop a great understanding. They were there for the drama and for the amusement. On several occasions they pushed for a laugh, either by asking nonsensical questions or deliberately using sections of film showing the interviewees misunderstanding or misinterpreting events or actions.

   The last section provided on the disc was a small slice of footage that revealed little other than a very tired, very frustrated Hork-Bajir. Then the video ended.

   Jon was sat twiddling his fingers, only taking a break to readjust his glasses. I saw him purse his lips and refrain from saying anything. He was waiting for me to make the first reaction, and to be honest I didn’t quite know how to.

   I made another skim over the first report. It was a complaint from the staff outpost stating that the video crew had been harassing some members of the community, both Human and Hork-Bajir. They had been getting in the way of staff, denying them access to their work areas and had been a general nuisance.

   “And they are all like this?” I asked of Jon, indicating to the rest of the files splayed before me.

   He nodded gravely, and adjusted his glasses again. “There are twelve, I think. Toby took a couple of them to lighten your workload.”

   “That’s nice of her….” I grumbled. “Fine. I’ll deal with this. Thanks, Jon.”

   An awkward silence fell as I waited for him to leave the office, but he stood there like a statue, feet to the ground like his was contemplating. He couldn’t find the courage to say what he wanted to say.

   “Is something wrong?” I asked of him, trying my absolute best to sound stress-free.

   “I…” He began, still staring at the base of my desk. “Me and the guys are going for our coffee break. We wanted to know if you’d come with us. You know. Take a break.”

   I considered the offer very briefly, but shook my head and replied, “I have a lot to do, thank you, Jon.”

   He seemed to have broken past the bravery threshold, and started his attempts to convince me. “We really wanted you to come down. We haven’t seen you for so long, and you seem a little… stressed.”

   “I’m very busy.” Was my blunt response.

   “I know, but… just a five minute break? They say that small breaks make you feel so mu-”

   “No, thank you, Jon,” I interrupted more forcefully. “I have things to do.”

   He took the hint and spoke something out of manners, but it was whispered so softly that I couldn’t make it out. He turned and walked from the room, calmly closing the door as he left for his break.

   I wasted no time in continuing my investigation. I pulled up the rest of the files and stacked them neatly over the work that I had been doing previously. I began to write down the names behind each complaint, took down notes on each file and compiled each type of claim into an ordered list, the most frequent harassment claims at the top. I narrowed the list down to five and wrote them on a separate note.

   After that was done, I watched the remaining DVDs. They all followed the same narrative of Hork-Bajir being followed during their daily routines, harassed by the camera crews desperate for golden footage.

   They made my people look like idiots and often-times little more than animals. Privacy, dignity and basic manners were not an issue worth their time, and I found myself growing sicker and sicker as I watched the footage, gladly throwing the last disc from the computer to the edge of my desk when it was over.

   I had made another five bullet points to bring my list of grievances to a total of ten major problems. The next stage was harder, and required me to use the dreaded phone. I pulled out a large folder from a shelf on the wall and flicked through the pages and pages of contacts until I came across the section for the CrescentCreations company. I dragged my finger down each page, skim reading until I found the contact number that I sought after. Once retrieved, I tapped that number into my phone-holding contraption and placed the horrible creation to my ear.

   It rang for quite some time. I thought that I was getting through, but I quickly realised after hearing a voice that I was being put on hold. The classical music that I was offered did little to calm my pulsing nerves.

   Finally, I got through to someone.

   “Hello! You’ve gotten through to CrescentCreations! My name is Sue, how can I help you?”

   “Hello, Sue,” I began in my casual tone. She was not to blame for the issues at hand, so I would not give her an attitude. “My name is Taku Kelmut, and I would like to speak to Mr Fischer.”

   There was a momentary pause. “Taku Kelmut?”

   “Yes, Taku Kelmut, head of media at the Yellowstone Centre, Wyoming,” I informed. “I wish to talk with Mr Fischer.”

   Sue seemed to move away from the phone for a short while, perhaps asking around for my significance. She came back to me, saying, “Okay, Mr Kelmut, I’ll put you through.”

   “Thank you.” I said, actually surprised that I was so quickly successful. However, I wouldn’t let that minor success get to me, for the phone was soon buzzing again, waiting to connect to the ear of Mr Fischer, the man in charge of the whole CrescentCreations operation.

   “Mr Kelmut.” Said the voice on the other end on the phone, a disinterested sneer.

   I hadn’t been caught off guard when he answered and began without hesitation. “Yes, Mr Fischer. This is Taku Kelmut. I understand that you are a busy man and so I will try to keep this brief. I have received a number of complaints about the manner in which your employees are going about their business while filming the programme Hork-Bajir Homes. This morning I have received ten reports from around Yellowstone Park, all summarising staff and resident disappointment at how the process of filming is being handled. I have also seen footage of Hork-Bajir being harassed by your film crews, footage that is apparently worthy of making the final cut in the programme. I want this to change.”

   His response was instant and wholly defeating. “So? What do you want me to do about it?”

   I took my time to formulate a response, almost gasping down the phone. “You are in charge, aren’t you? I want this to be stopped!”

   “What do you want to be stopped?” He asked in a husky voice.

   “I want… The film crew has been harassing both staff and the Hork-Bajir in the park. They have restricted our staff from doing their jobs, they have belittled our people and exploited them for this terrible programme, they have-”

   “Whoa, hey,” Mr Fischer interrupted roughly. “Mr Kelmut, I understand that you may have concerns.”

   “I certainly _do_ have concerns!” I stated with growing frustration.

   “Yes, whatever. Now I want you, Mr Kelmut, to tell me who signed the contracts that allowed us free reign to film our programmes in your park.”

   I paused, trying to follow the path he was leading. “The contracts?”

   “The contracts,” He grumbled. “That we sent to the park’s head of media, that gave us legal permission to film our show.”

   “Well… I signed a few of them.” I muttered, my fingers now twiddling a pen on my desk.

   “Do you have those contracts with you now, Mr Kelmut?”

   I didn’t at that moment, but I requested that he wait a moment as I searched for the relevant folder on my shelf. Located, I pulled it down and opened it onto the desk. “Yes, I have them here.”

   “Tell me, Mr Kelmut,” He sighed with a confident, arrogant tone. “Have any of these reported incidents involved physical harm to staff or residents where our film crews have been working?”

   “No,” I admitted. “There’s been nothing physical, but my people-”

   “Then the contract hasn’t been breached, Mr Kelmut,” He interrupted again. “We haven’t crossed any legal boundaries, and we’re signed up for three seasons of Hork-Bajir Homes. Is that all?”

   I was totally stunned, and even my fingers had stopped twiddling. He really could not care less. “Mr Fischer, I… They are harassing my people!”

   “Harassing in what way?”

   I picked up the notes I had written down, quickly performing their primary function of reminding me of the main points. “They are following my people around non-stop. Individuals, not groups. They are asking ridiculous, obscene questions and using my people’s confused answers for entertainment. They are deliberately trying to start drama! I agreed to an informative documentary on my people, not cheap reality television!”

   “But you did, Mr Kelmut,” Fischer sniggered. “Well, you didn’t say that you _dis_ agreed. Look, I have the contract right here in front of me. Could you turn to page four?”

   I did so, arriving at a large section titled Filming Permissions. I felt a shiver pull at my spine.

   “Read along with me, Mr Kelmut. Section three-B, line four: CrescentCreations will be permitted to use obtained footage for any purpose as long as it does not violate federal law.”

   I placed a hand to my head and realised my mistake. Fischer only aided in rubbing salt into the wound.

   “That means that we can make whatever show we want, Mr Kelmut. You signed the contract, and you gave us that right. You want to argue it, I’ll send my lawyers. Good day.”

   He hung up, leaving me no time to respond. I had nothing to respond with anyway. I dropped the phone, not onto the receiver but haphazardly onto the desk. Feeling inconsolably defeated, I let my body loosen and almost collapsed onto the unfortunate desk.

   I had been such an idiot. How did I not think to check all of the minor details in the contracts before I signed them? Why didn’t I foresee the consequences of letting a money-hungry company enter the park with only the federal law their restriction? My people were suffering because of my stupid, ignorant mistakes.

   Once again, my people were being victimised by the brutal, selfish Human race.

   I didn’t want it to happen anymore, and I knew that I would have to make great improvements to stop the stupid mistakes from occurring again. My own stupidity had gotten in the way long enough, and my cowardliness in front of the Human media was also inexcusable at that point. I needed to be more like Toby: Strong, decisive, unwavering. I needed to see what she would see. She never would have let this error happen.

   Fischer had threatened me with legal action. An army of lawyers bearing down on me was not something I wished to pursue, and I needed to find a more efficient way to achieve my goal. I doubted that I could change federal law in a way that could help.

   I needed to get the Humans on my side. I had to argue my case on the airwaves, on the television networks, on the internet. I wouldn’t need to stop CrescentCreations antics, because public opinion could do that for me. It would mean breaking into realms of new territory, but it wasn’t an option any more. I had landed my people in a hole and it was up to me to dig them back out.

   I picked up the phone, slammed in a number, and held it to my ear. It rang briefly, but it didn’t take him long to answer.

   “Hello?” He said, voice worn by the drudgery of a working day.

   “Lakeston,” I greeted. “This is Taku Kelmut. Do you have time to talk?”


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

   New York was almost as snowy as Yellowstone Park. The streets were teeming with motor vehicles and pedestrians, creating a whirlwind of noise that wove its way up the side of our tall hotel building. It blew in through the window, joining the cold in a discordant melody in my ears. I watched the activity from twenty stories, keeping a metre distance from the window, a shelter from the dropping temperature as the evening began to set in.

   For so long I had been dreading another trip to one of the great Human cities, but I had come this time with intent. I needed to be there, not just for my own dignity but also that of my people. Being in New York was the punishment for my crimes, and a very fitting one.

   I had little other reason to be there. I had learnt long beforehand that I was not permitted into the headquarters of the news broadcasting station I was to appear on. The reasons were disguised but unmistakeable, and it only added to my rage.

   Everything about it frustrated me, and in the city I had very little to cling to other than the handful of possessions I had brought and the even grouchier Hork-Bajir in the room beside mine. Toby hated this trip just as much as I did.

   She and Cassie were pre-occupied. My suspicions were growing, but I couldn’t understand why. As for Clarissa, nothing had changed. Only I had.

   She knocked on my hotel room door. I could tell that it was her because the knock was performed with a certain beat that matched her rather tuneful lifestyle. I moved away from the window with whatever energy I could be bothered to expend and opened the door for her. A big grin was spread over her face, so much so that I feared it would interfere with her huge hoopy earrings.

   “Hey, Taku,” She chirped in a long drawn-out fashion. “You ready?”

   “Ready for what?” I grunted, moving aside to allow her in.

   She pranced in with a spring and dropped a large purple bag on my sofa. “Your interview starts in two hours,” She said. “You’ve got to get ready!”

   “I’m ready enough,” I responded, shuffling over and already knowing what was in the bag. “I just need some time to think it over.”

   Clarissa shrugged it off entirely, her attention focused on the bag as she pulled equipment from it. “You’ve had loads of thinking time. You barely said a word on the flight over. Now come on, we need you to look good for those cameras!”

   “I look good enough already.”

   She chuckled and shook her head up at me. “Remember humility, Taku. People like it.”

   “I don’t mean it like that,” I retorted. “I mean I don’t need makeup. Does it even make a difference?”

   “Yes, silly, of course it makes a difference. Everyone does it and for a good reason. The better you look, the more people pay attention.”

   “It shouldn’t be that way,” I huffed. “So very shallow.”

   She pulled up a wooden stool for me to sit on and prepared her first pile of equipment. “Yeah, but it works. Do you want it to work or not?”

   I sat on the stool, deliberately making it seem uncomfortable. “Of course I want it to work. I just think there should be more genuine ways to do it. And, please, don’t coat me like last time. I was choking on the fumes.”

   “Well, gee, Taku, that’s the thanks I get? When you’re in a good mood again I’m going to make you apologise.”

   “You’ll be waiting a long time.” I mumbled.

   She put a hold on the make-up process to reply to my statement. “You’ve been, like, really grumpy for this whole trip, Taku. Lighten up a bit. Everything is going to go great!”

   “I’ll lighten up as soon as I can be home with my family on my nice cosy branch. I know now why Toby hates these trips so much.”

   She rolled her eyes and began to rub a wet tissue over my head. “Duh, we all hate our jobs.”

   There was an awkward silence. She must have assumed that I would continue the conversation, but I took my time to consider what she said and brought it back. “And what is _your_ job?”

   Clarissa fell unnaturally silent and then forced a laugh. “ _Most_ people hate their jobs. I like mine.”

   “I’m sure you do,” I sighed, feeling guilty for trying to trap her. “Though I find it hard to believe. How you can enjoy yourself around the two most miserable Hork-Bajir in the universe is hard to fathom.”

   She told me to hold still as she took the damp tissue around my right eye to scrape off the stray dirt. “You’re happier than most Humans.”

   “Yes. You Humans seem to find pleasure in making yourselves miserable.”

   She smiled at me as the tissue was dragged over my snout. “Just like you, huh?”

   She said it in jest, but I reacted differently to what she may have expected. “I don’t make myself miserable! Why would I?”

   “Geez, Taku,” She huffed, pulling the tissue away to get a full look of me. “What’s wrong with you today?”

   I folded my arms over my chest and felt very petulant when I replied, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

   “No, you’re not,” She countered, beginning to grow frustrated with me. “You’ve never been like this. I know things are busy right now and it’s, like, getting on top of you, but you have to stop being so paranoid and edgy.”

   “I’ll stop being paranoid and edgy when I have good reason to,” I compromised, allowing her to finish off with the tissue by scrubbing the last part of my face. “So many things have gone wrong that I think I’m right to be those things.”

   Clarissa dropped the tissue to the floor, marking out her workspace, and started to prepare some kind of brush, dabbing it into a strange powdery substance. She took it to my right cheek and tapped it against my skin. “Bad stuff always happens. Sometimes it just happens in big clumps, you know. You’ll get through it. Just keep your chin up.”

   I lifted my head backwards at her order.

   “Not like that. I mean metaphorically.”

   I dropped my snout back down and let her continue. “I don’t know. This all seems like some big over-complicated game that I’m in no position to play. I just want to go home and live with my people.”

   “You were given that choice.” Clarissa muttered casually.

   “How do you know that?”

   “Toby,” She replied, dabbing the brush against the base of my snout. “I think it was, like, last year.”

   I grunted. “And what else has she told you of our conversations?”

   “Only the things I needed to know. She told me that you agreed to live her lifestyle. It would be a bit late now to stop it.”

   I pulled my face back to stop her brush contacting. “And what makes you say that, Clarissa? Why is it a bit late?”

   The brush was left in mid-air. She was intent on continuing, but shrugged at my question and said, “You’re in the spotlight now. People expect things of you.”

   “Well they shouldn’t!” I burst, the volume of my statement causing her to recoil. “I will live the life I want to lead!”

   Clarissa looked sympathetic, but the brush was not dropped and she leaned in again to continue her work. “You probably can eventually, but first you-”

   “First I what?” I growled, moving back further to disallow the brush. “First I play your silly Human games?! Go on your television networks to make a total fool of myself?!”

   She finally pulled back, the brush dropping to her side. Her eyes held a look of confusion. “I don’t know what you mean…”

   “Yes, you do,” I accused, pushing back my stool and standing before her. I must have looked a frightening figure as I loomed over her. “The whole point of you being here is to make me Human. You bring me Human food, put me in front of Human televisions and douse me in these disgusting Human potions! I don’t want to be Human! I want nothing to do with them!”

   Clarissa remained stood in her place, the expression of confusion still present but mixed with pain. Her hands were shaking. “It’s not like that, Taku…”

   I didn’t give in to her emotional gaze and I turned away, stepping across the room towards the window. “I don’t like you Humans. You are so shallow, so petty. Why must I disguise myself like one of them to talk about my people?! I am not one of them and I never will be!”

   “Taku, I’m not trying to turn you into a Human, okay?” She tried to reason. I could hear her choking, trying to hold back tears. “I’m just trying to help you see things like we do.”

   “It is Human vision that is causing the problems that we face! I would only blind myself,” I countered. “Tonight I am expected to attend an interview with a panel on a nationwide broadcast to discuss the impact of _CrescentCreations_ , and I am expected to listen politely, nod and then come up with some mediocre reasons why I disagree. It will be totally, utterly pointless. No minds will be changed, no progression achieved. That is what Humans expect, and what everyone has tried to convince me is correct. But it’s not going to happen like that! I’m sick of coming to these damn cities and being restricted to my room because I am not allowed to wander the streets! I’m sick of people judging me because I messed up a television interview. I’m sick of wearing make-up!”

   She was remaining quiet, absolutely still as I barraged her with outpouring emotion. It was all being unleashed again, and I could do little to cease it.

   “I’m not going to be Human anymore! It doesn’t work! I’m going to tell this pathetic country exactly what I think of them and they’re all going to see!”

   Now tears were beginning to flow from Clarissa’s eyes, and her lower lip shuddered. She shook her head. “Taku, please, just-”

   “No,” I huffed. “I don’t need you anymore, Clarissa. I don’t need your tuition and I don’t need your powders. Go home.”

   I didn’t expect anything. Indeed, I received nothing. Clarissa shook her head again, took her things up in her bags and left, quietly shutting the door behind her. I was alone again.

   At that moment, I was satisfied. Her presence now made me feel tremendously uncomfortable and I couldn’t bear the idea of once again dousing myself in products just to make my smile a little more unrealistic on the cameras. She always wanted to do it to me and now I didn’t want that anymore. I was perfectly content with my own skin.

   But she had tainted me. I dragged a finger along my cheek and stared at my claw, now smudged with a lighter shade of green. I rubbed my claws together and briefly played with the bizarre stuff, but it would not go away so easily, so I grunted with dissatisfaction and walked past the sofa and towards the _en suite_ bathroom where everything was built with a petite Human in mind. Switching on the lights, I headed to the sink and twisted the knob that would begin the flow of hot water.

   A large golden-framed mirror was the only thing to look at while stood over the sink and I used it to locate the patches where Clarissa had marked my face. It was mostly on my right cheek, though some was haphazardly brushed onto my beak, most likely when I pulled away. My scales glittered subtly, cleared of any microbes of dirt with her wet tissue.

   It was normal to me now, a disguise that I wore frequently. The disguise of a pathetic foreigner trying desperately to fit in where it was never possible to begin with. The Human world was complicated and violent. Corrupted and stained with greed. Things that Hork-Bajir were not.

   I was a Hork-Bajir. Even with the make-up stains and the unnaturally clean skin I could see it. Nothing could mistake my blades or my eyes. The Human world was not made for me, or I for it. I should not have to behave like them.

   The interview was now less than two hours away. I was to be filmed in a studio not far from the hotel and I had initially planned to be cordial and polite, but equally resistant and strong-willed.  I knew that that would no longer be possible, even if I tried. I was too wound up, too volatile and emotional. If Clarissa could cause me to explode, then the words of the enemy could be catastrophic.

   Not that I cared. I wanted that. I wished to make my presence known as something other than the pitiful cowering wreck that I was previously, to breach the headlines and make my message known to the entire Human world.

   It was all being planned. I tried to predict the opening lines of the host in my head, always so predictable. She would first introduce the other two guests, the ones in the newsroom. Then it would be me. Then it would probably end. Rebuttals to my points weren’t necessary, and neither were the other guests, to an extent.

   I placed my hand into the hot water as it poured freely from the tap, formed a cup to transport the liquid to my face. I splashed it onto the offending area and began to scrub vigorously. Light green water spilled around my hand as the make-up came loose.

   The image in the mirror began to look more Hork-Bajir as the substance came away. I smiled as the process went on, feeling freer in my old self. Things were going to be so much better when I rid myself of the Human side.

   There was one little spot of make-up left, just on the lower part of my right jaw. Upon spotting it, I reached down to again cusp some water to rinse it off with. My hand went under for milliseconds before natural reaction caused me to withdraw sharply and with a pained yelp. The water was steaming, burning the area of the hand it touched.

   I turned the tap off and muttered harshly under my breath, grasping at my afflicted hand. My inner monologue had distracted from the fact that the hot water tap would have been quickly increasing in temperature. A silly mistake on my part, and I decided that I had done enough make-up removal.

   I had about an hour to spare before I needed to leave my hotel room for the interview. With Clarissa gone, Toby seemingly absent and no books to read, I had little choice but to crack open a bottle of water and sit down in front of the television. I picked up my nearest bottle that was sat cosily in an open backpack and guided myself down onto the large leather sofa near the centre of my large, mostly red coloured room. The leather was cold on my skin, as it always had been, but didn’t take long to warm. In that time, I flicked lazily through the television channels. Sitcoms, movies, cartoons, a live showing of a theatre performance…

   I considered that last one briefly, but then I decided against it, took a long gulp from my water bottle and turned to the first news station I came across.

   Same old dull news stories. Same old miserable ones, if I were to be honest. Normally I would avoid the torture, but over the last months I had come to realise that world news could be very important for me. Most of the time it wasn’t but alien relations stories would often pop up that concerned me. Then Toby would calm me down and take the entire responsibility on her own shoulders. She seemed used to it.

   I got bored very quickly, but the monotony of the television screen began to lull me into a peaceful daze where my only slight movements included breathing and scratching myself on occasion. This, coming before a big event for me, was unusual. I would normally be in panic mode, but something was different this time. That was obvious.

   However, my daze didn’t last long. My ears were still just barely paying attention to the television when a worrying news story was first uttered by the programme’s host.

   “Plans to build a highway over a section of Yellowstone have re-emerged after pressure from local businesses,” The young male host with unnaturally sleek hair spoke. “The plans were first proposed back in 2007 but were put aside when challenged by the CAE.”

   I perked up, awaking from my daydream and paying full attention as the story was revealed. I could already sense that I would not approve of whatever was happening.

   The host continued, “The highway would connect towns on the eastern and western borders of Yellowstone National Park, and though this may seem like exactly the opposite thing that should happen in a national park, the groups behind the plan explain that Yellowstone had already been compromised as a national reserve when the Hork-Bajir were introduced in the year 2001. So not only would they have to battle campaigners who worry about the environmental impact of a highway, they will also first have to convince state and federal governments that the park is no longer technically a reserve.”

   The host disappeared, and a pre-recorded section took his place. A narrator spoke over the filmed image of a street in Idaho Falls, a Human settlement on the western side of Yellowstone. The narrator, female, said, “Since the turn of the century, the city of Idaho Falls and the neighbouring towns have seen a huge increase in tourism, coinciding with the arrival of Hork-Bajir to Yellowstone National Park. However, this increase has led to unusual levels of congestion in the region as campers, hikers and photographers head in from all around the world. Many have grown concerned that congestion issues will prove problematic for small businesses and tourists alike.”

   A man then appeared. He was particularly large and wore a sports cap and a chequered hoodie. He spoke into a microphone, and was addressed by a patch at the bottom of the screen as the owner of a local business. “You know, we get all these people coming into the town, looking for a place to stay and that’s great. But you know what they always tell me? They always tell me that it’s difficult to get here. Small twisty roads, you know, it takes quite a long time. It was fine a while ago, but now that our demand has gone up, we need to make it easier to get here.”

   “How do we do that, do you think?” The woman behind the microphone could be heard asking.

   “Build bigger highways.” He replied, nodding.

   The large man disappeared after his brief appearance and another film of landscape took his place. The narrator said, “Plans to build a large highway just south of Yellowstone Lake are proving very popular among local business owners, who see the proposed road as an ideal solution as tourism increases. However, the highway would also cross through part of the Hork-Bajir designated territory, effectively splitting it in half, and many also question whether a highway can be built in Yellowstone in the first place.”

   And the man reappeared, having clearly been asked a different question. “As far as I’m concerned, Yellowstone stopped being a protected national reserve as soon as the Hork-Bajir came along. They ain’t a natural part of the ecosystem. You don’t introduce animals into a reserve that don’t naturally belong there, because that totally defeats the point of a reserve. If it ain’t a reserve, it ain’t protected, and we can legally build a highway in it.”

   I doubted the truth of what he was saying, but that wasn’t my major concern. I switched off the television, having gotten the message and seen far too much of it. Another problem, another example of greed. The subtle comparison to animals pushed it too far and caused my stomach to churn.

   I would have to investigate later. It was just another file of papers to sort through some other day. At that moment, all I had to care about was my interview, and just exactly what I would say and how long I would have to say it.

   I got up, finished my water and left the building.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

I was not allowed to leave for the studio by myself, no matter how hard I tried to sneak past the hotel staff. It felt like a prison. As soon as I left my room, I was approached by a housekeeper or room service who would ask if I needed anything. My response was no, and they asked me to avoid going downstairs.

   I asked them why not, and they told me that it was dangerous. “There are a lot of people around,” They would say. “Anybody could trip on your tail or get caught on your blades.”

   I cursed their clumsy nature, but reigned myself in as I realised the truth behind it. I resigned myself to the idea that I would need my supervisors help to get me to where I needed to go. A quick phone call later, and I was being escorted to the first floor by my gang of overly-cautious assistants. They formed almost a circle around me, creating a Human barrier that saved me from the vicious New York world.

   The studio was just at the other end of the block, but we still required transport, apparently. I was loaded into a black SUV and we began the shortest journey of my life to date. It felt like the longest. Three Human faces that I barely recognised watched mine. I could just see the clogs turning in their heads and the anxiety approach them. My anger must have been radiating noticeably. Not a word was uttered.

   Out of the car I came, and within seconds I was being shunted through another hallway and up a flight of stairs, through a claustrophobic hallway where the photographs of famous faces watched me, judged me. A lot of them were laughing.

   Maybe it was fear. Laughter to cover their fear. I was the scary intruder in their precious hallway, an outsider whose chains formed a black ring to hold me in.

   One of them was a smiling African-American lady. Young but with a look of experience and intelligence. Compassion. I reached out past my security and with force pulled it from whatever held it in place. My escorts began to panic, but calmed to a perplexed murmur when I placed the frame upside-down on the nearest surface. Her eyes would see nothing.

   We found the studio. It was a dark meeting room, the walls covered with a grey material used for sound insulation. However, the lighting was bright, as were the many screens that blinkered up at me from cameras and personal laptops. The crew were ready and in position, looking up at me expectantly and equally impatiently.

   The head of the crew, a portly male with receding hair, approached with an unamused expression. “Taku! When we say eight, we mean eight! We start in two minutes!”

   “I don’t care!” I responded with as much grace as an unexpected sneeze. “If you’re so worried about it, get out of my face and set it up!”

   The room fell awkwardly silent, as if my angered outburst had cast a dire atmosphere through it. It had, really. Nobody had expected me to be so blunt, and to be honest, neither did I. The director, previously arrogant and with a visible sense of superiority, cowered and waddled back to his seat, looking over his shoulder at me with stuttering movement.

   “Well?” I demanded of the room, stood in the centre once everybody had backed a few feet away. “We have two minutes. Set me up!”

   After an expected hesitance, two Humans approached me and proceeded to guide me to where I would be sitting. They didn’t guide me by hand, rather called me over while remaining out of arms reach.

   The stool I was afforded for the interview was wooden and small, but I put up with it. After all, I wouldn’t be sat there for long. I put myself on it and swivelled so that I faced the large, main camera. It stared back at me, and the eyes that I saw within were distant and unfamiliar.

   Past the camera, I saw the on-looking Humans scratching their heads and muttering amongst themselves. They were confused, baffled, almost panicked. The director looked the most nervous, and I saw beads of sweat running down his head.

   I didn’t see anybody that I knew. Clarissa wasn’t there, and that I expected. However, I thought Toby and Cassie would at least be present to keep things under control. Their faces were suspiciously absent. Again, I wondered why, but my troubled mind could not yet put those vital pieces together, and I clutched my head in my hands, panting heavily as I began to lose myself to some gruesome creature that lurked within my being.

   “Mr Kelmut?” Said a Human male. He was stood nearby, hands on his knees as he attempted to make eye contact. “Are you okay?”

   “Yes.” I replied, keeping it simple and hoping he would leave.

   “Do you want some water or something?”

   “No.”

   “Okay. Can we put your phones in?”

   I said nothing, but reached out a hand in his direction and felt the rubbery objects being dropped into my claw. I looked up as I placed them into my ear holes and noticed that the Human had quickly vanished. Everybody was in place, and I heard the jingle of a newsroom segment burst into my ears. The director, still a little shell-shocked, was giving me visible indications that I was about to begin.

   Suddenly, the news anchor’s voice popped into my head with the typical chirpiness and I saw his smiling face on a screen just beside the camera. All the memories of my first interview began to flood back, memories of how panicked I was and how I shook on my stool. I still shook, but not out of anxiety this time. I wanted to begin just as much as I wanted it to finish.

   “Good afternoon America,” The host spoke. I recognised him as a male called Nick. I had seen his show several times before. The items were light, never big news stories really. His show was mostly there to bring the audience back down after a few hours of hard-hitting news. It was essentially an opinion show. He continued, “The new show on Discovery, _Hork-Bajir Homes_ , airs this week, and though early reviews have deemed the show to be an entertaining, lively and informative look into the lives of our alien friends, there are those who criticise the show’s delivery. They say it crosses the boundary into cheap reality television. Are the Hork-Bajir off limits for reality TV? Here with us now to discuss this is television analyst Debra Bradshaw.”

   The camera shot to her, a red-haired lady with a fake grin from ear to ear and long red nails. “Hi Nick.” She swooped with unnatural showmanship, a play for the audience.

   The other guest was entirely the opposite. He didn’t seem to care about what the audience felt of him. He was sat hunched, wearing an untidy brown jacket and looking forever displeased. He was introduced as Sam Hinchcliffe, a producer for the station destined to air the show. He replied, “Good to be back, Nick.”

   “And joining us from elsewhere in New York,” Of course, he didn’t mention that I was mere blocks away. “Taku Kelmut, volunteer at the Yellowstone Centre.”

   I took it as my cue to begin. Already past the deep breath stage, I was ready to voice my opinions. “I am joining you from the Welvick building,” I informed. “I could easily join you in the studio if I was allowed to, but apparently there simply isn’t room at your desk.”

   On the screen, I could see the host hesitating, flinching as I took the unexpected turn. He stammered, looked down briefly at his desk and said, “Well… That wasn’t my decision Mr Kelmut, and I would appreciate common courtesy on my show, if you don’t mind.”

   “Yes, and I would appreciate not being seen as a potential hazard. Perhaps I would provide more courtesy if I could do so in person.”

   He was stunned. His guests probably were as well, but they weren’t currently on screen. “If you have a problem, Mr Kelmut,” Nick gritted. “You should take it up with those responsible. I was not responsible, so please don’t come onto my show and throw those accusations at me!”

   “Okay,” I huffed. “I’ll throw some more appropriate accusations your way if that’s preferable.”

   “It most certainly isn’t-”

   “No doubt you’ve brought somebody onto your panel who agrees with what this disgusting programme portrays. I find it atrocious that you would even consider this an argument with two valid sides.”

   I could see him growing ever more frustrated. His eyes were furrowed, staring intensely down the camera. “Well if you would actually wait your turn, because, you know, I never asked you to start ranting, you would actually hear what my other guests have to say!”

   “I don’t need to hear what they have to say!” I barked. “What is the point of this game? I’m not here for pointless debate, I’m here to make myself heard. There are no two-sides to this! _CrescentCreations_ have betrayed my trust and exploited my people. They are using them for cheap reality television and harassing those that they film! I-”

   “Mr Kelmut… Mr Kelmut!” Nick intruded, bringing me to a reluctant stop. “You don’t run this show. You don’t get to run your mouth like a rabid dog. Not when I’m in charge! Now, if I could finally bring Sam-”

   “I haven’t finished yet!” I was vibrating on my stool. Behind the camera I could see the crew watching on, motionless and almost unbelieving. It didn’t faze me, and neither did Nick as he tried to bring Sam Hinchcliffe into the conversation. I flicked my snout angrily and interrupted. “CrescentCreations have-”

   “Mr Kelmut!” Nick snapped. “If you cannot keep quiet for just a minute I’ll cut your mic!”

   How I wanted to argue with him, but the threat of being silenced caused me to rethink. I begrudgingly sat back and listened as Sam Hinchcliffe was given centre stage.

   He leaned forward in his seat, attention clearly focused on Nick alone. “Thank you. To be honest, Nick, I don’t know what all the fuss is about. And I don’t know why Mr Kelmut thinks that it’s appropriate to come on here screaming and shouting like some wild animal about it.”

   “You _do_ know.” I asserted to clear things up.

   We were both on screen together now, our faces side by side, framed in a computer generated white background. Sam was now looking to his camera, indirectly looking at me. “Look, I don’t know what’s gotten you so agitated, but this is no way to act on television, let alone on one of America’s biggest news stations! Let us not forget that, if rumour is correct, it was _you_ , Mr Kelmut, that allowed _CrescentCreations_ into the park in the first place.”

   I didn’t flinch. I knew that it would come up. “Yes, I did.”

   “So why are you coming onto this show trying to bite our heads off?!” Sam pressed with an almost mocking laugh, shrugging.

   “I expected something of value to come out of it,” I replied instantly. “I expected documentaries that would fairly present my people. What I didn’t expect was a band of egomaniacs running around the park, bullying my people and filming the results!”

   “Well you should have thought about that beforehand,” Sam suggested fiercely. “If you didn’t properly inspect the forms and didn’t decide what they were going to do, then I have no sympathy for you! Sorry!”

   “I didn’t demand your sympathy!” I shouted, beginning to lose my temper again. “I am here to correct my mistakes. Just because I allowed this injustice does not mean that it shouldn’t be stopped!”

   “What injustice?!” Sam responded, a clear baffled expression on his face.

   His rant was only syllables long before Nick butted in. “Okay, alright,” He said with a polite laugh. He was trying to break the tension. “As the moderator it’s supposed to be my job to keep things civil. I’m going to pass it onto Taku because obviously not everybody here knows why exactly _CrescentCreations_ are wrong to film this series. Could you shed some light?”

   “Of course,” I grunted. “As I’ve already said, the crew for _CrescentCreations_ has no interest in filming a series that actually educates and informs. Instead, it has been using questionable tactics to push my people and our staff into creating forced entertainment. My people do not belong in one of your pathetic reality TV shows!”

   Nick nodded and passed the mic. “Okay, your response, Sam?”

   “I think it’s all subjective, Nick. I’ve heard nothing about bullying tactics and forced entertainment, and I work very closely with _CrescentCreations_. If something was going wrong, maybe a breach of contract or someone’s rights were being imposed on, then I would hear of it! Mr Kelmut just seems to have a problem with reality television, which, let’s be honest, is one of the biggest things going at the moment! We can criticise it all we want, but it gets the viewers!”

   His words were like painful jabs at my side, irritating me and pushing me ever closer to the edge until I eventually collapsed over it. What annoyed me equally was that I had fallen into the trap. I was playing the game again and letting the machine take control. It couldn’t happen, and this time I wouldn’t let the threat of my microphone being cut distract me.

   “And that is what matters, I suppose,” I sneered. “Because the viewers pay you their money, I assume. So typical that you would dismiss the concerns of my people simply because you’ll get a few more pennies in your back pocket!”

   He glared angrily. “How dare y-”

   I wouldn’t let him speak up. “Don’t think that I’m surprised, Mr Hinchcliffe, because I really am not. I’ve come to expect it, actually. The only reason _CrescentCreations_ has decided to create this hideous reality TV content is because it would be more profitable than an actual credible documentary. No matter what these people did to mine, you would still deny any wrongdoing because it will affect your income. The company can do no wrong! And who would notice, anyway, that one or two Hork-Bajir have been frustrated by misguided crewmen? Who would care? As long as the masses sat in front of their televisions are given their daily dose of mindless theatre, all is fine!”

   Nick tried to pull the show back by moving onto Debra, but again I spoke over him, using my more powerful Hork-Bajir throat to speak over him.

   “I’m sick of these Human games! Why must I come on here to be some fool, some puppet to entertain a few people at home who are content to watch us argue and get nothing done? I’m not here to debate your guests, I’m here to tell you that I am disgusted with the way things are done! You sicken me! All of you!”

   They weren’t even trying to stop me. Nick was looking sheepishly down at his papers, while Sam sat back in his chair with a contented smile that only served to further enrage me.

   “I can’t stand how violent you are! I can’t stand how you stomp around our home like you own us and stare at us like objects to be judged! How do you expect me to stand by and play your games while my people are murdered by their homes, while I am ridiculed worldwide because I cannot perform a flawless interview on first attempt? I’m sure this interview will go much the same way, and I really could not care less. Why must I care about what this foul species thinks of me?”

   Now the panel just looked awkward, pursing their lips and gazing off into the distance with exaggerated exhalations. Nick was the most active, readying himself to take back control as soon as he could.

   “I won’t let this show continue,” I asserted, regarding _Hork-Bajir Homes_. “I know that breaking contract will result in some lawyer army ripping me to shreds, but there will be other ways to get rid of this plague. I urge the audience, please…”

   I snapped back and gasped. My entire speech reeled through my mind like a tape player on fast-forward. It caused me to freeze in place, and I almost collapsed under my foolish mistake. Now I was only sick with myself, and it totally replaced all the rage.

   It felt like the first interview all over again.

   Sam Hinchcliffe huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Do I even need to respond to this guy, Nick? He’s come into your show like some wild animal and expects us to take him seriously!” Then he addressed me, saying, “I hope you read the headlines tomorrow because, no doubt, you’ll be there.”

   It was enough to bring back some of the previous rage, though it had soaked in some of the self-pitying that I was drowning in. Almost choking, I bellowed, “I don’t need your snarky comments! I don’t care for what the headlines say because they’re written by people like you!”

   Nick forced himself in this time, shaking his head. “Okay, that’s it. Can we cut his mic? Please? Get him off my show.”

   “I’ll gladly leave!” I yelped, but as I was speaking those words I saw my image vanish from the screen. I had already been cut.

   However, I could still hear them through my headphones. I listened long enough for Nick to say, “I don’t allow personal attacks on my show, and I also don’t allow that kind of aggressive conduct. There really is no need to act like such a child on national television and I’m sure Mr Kelmut will realise that in time.”

   I ripped the headphones from my ears and threw them to the floor with a distressed roar. The room around me was deathly quiet, but for the nervous scraping of feet on the laminate flooring. I tried to catch glances, but they all turned away in uncertainty.

   Furious with my own stupidity, I rose to my feet, roughly pushing my stool backwards. For a few seconds I held my head in my hands, shook it and played with its thoughts.

   How could I have been so foolish? Why could I only see our racial ties only after I had severed them irreparably? How could I have let my rage take over me with such little resistance?

   And I knew it would only build upon itself. Already it was bubbling again, and I stormed forward past the camera, if only for relief from the spotlight. The path was cleared, Humans scattering to stay away from the clearly deranged Hork-Bajir.

   Should I be angry at that, too? They thought I was dangerous, just like the news panel… At least this crew had a reason to avoid me now. I would avoid me, as well.

   As I stood in the centre of the room, the feeling of isolation began to fall on me. The Humans were hurriedly packing away their equipment, and even those whose job it was to attend to me had apparently disappeared. Most of all, the absence of my friends was becoming more obvious than ever. The silence that they left was cruelly allowing my own thoughts to provide me with their bitter chatter.

   I began to wonder… Did Clarissa care for me anymore? Or Cassie? Had my inexplicable anger pushed them away?

   As for Toby, her absence was a mystery. Perhaps she thought that I didn’t need her presence to supervise me. Clearly, I did, and I desperately wanted to berate her about it. She should have been with me, even if she was no longer my tutor. She was an ally, the other seer, the mentor. And she was a friend, too.

   How I wished for my friends. They would all be back in Yellowstone, never to hear of what just happened, if I were to remain silent. Blissfully ignorant to the world around them, just how I wanted to be. But I didn’t belong to them anymore. I wasn’t one of them. Now, too, I most certainly wasn’t Human, and too stupid to be a seer. I wasn’t anything at all.

   I left for the hotel in silence, wondering how the day could get any worse.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

   I snuck away from my escorts as soon as we had entered the hotel. I told them that I wanted water, and while they stood at the bar I managed to duck away behind them and jog to the elevators. Thankfully, my elevator was empty. I didn’t want to be within ten feet of a Human for the rest of the trip.

   I leaned back against the railings as the elevator whirred into its mechanical frenzy, the buzz of the components barely drowned out by the tingly music playing from a tiny speaker in the upper corner. I would have preferred just the buzzing, but my hands were enough to block the Human sounds as I placed them firmly on the sides of my head. I hummed, the vibrations cutting out whatever remnants of the music still drifted through.

   My eyes were still open, however. They investigated the surroundings, took in the deep greys and golds of the elevator interior. Comfortably claustrophobic, if such could exist.

   Behind me was another Hork-Bajir. A reflection of myself. The mirror displayed my back, from my shoulders down to the base of my tail. Unfamiliar, in that I usually only saw my front. I gazed at my back for a while, but turned to face the mirror directly when my neck began to feel uncomfortable with the strain of looking directly backwards. The sight of my front was much less foreign and I shuffled forward for a closer look.

   It wasn’t the same reflection from earlier. I recognised my own eyes and my headblades. The arm blades, too, and the shoulder blades. They were Taku’s. A naïve Hork-Bajir who swung in the trees, sat around campfires and couldn’t help but giggle inanely at nonsensical syllables his mother used to make.

   “ _Thpit…_ ” I spoke to my reflection.

   The word echoed, bounced over the walls and danced with the beat of the music that droned away in the background. It swished through my head, pulling at memories and registering in every part of me. My mouth smiled slowly and with reluctance. My reflection’s eyes urged me on, dilated pupils pleading for the escape.

   Then my mouth opened, and I laughed. The reflection laughed, too.

   “Um, excuse me?”

   I stopped with a shocked grunt and turned my head. The elevator door was open, a middle-aged Human female stood in its wake. She looked concerned, but at the same time reluctant to approach and with the most subtle hint of fear on her pale face.

   Scared of me, but equally empathetic. Like most. I looked away, at the same time manoeuvring myself out of the elevator. I heard her feet clumsily bounce backwards as she made enough room, and then the sound changed as they transported her into the elevator where I once was.

   Curious, I made one last glance. She was not visible as the elevator doors were almost shut, but I caught the last moments of myself in the mirror. My back was turned again.

      It was late by Hork-Bajir standards. The Sun had set, and the only lighting was coming from the long hallways that I stumbled down. However, Humans were still milling around, still highly active even at night. Probably more so. I said not a word to any of them, doing my best to avoid them as much as possible and creeping past those that I had to. Finally, I made it back to our rooms, and though I should have gone straight back into my own designated room to sulk, I skipped past it to the room next-door. I knocked on it firmly and felt the door shift slightly, unlocked.

   “Yes? Come in!” Toby called from within. She sounded preoccupied, not that it mattered.

   I pushed the door open and marched in, letting it close behind my tail and standing motionless as I watched her.

   She was sorting files. Frantically, at that.  She had a pad of paper under her arm while using the other to dutifully organise another, hunched over her desk at the end of the room. She didn’t even look up to see that it was me that had entered.

   I got so fed up of waiting for her that I decided to just speak up. “Where were you? I was there alone!”

   Upon hearing my voice, she turned her neck so that she looked backwards at me. “Hello, Taku.”

   “Please answer my question.” I insisted, stepping further into the room to get a better look at what she was doing.

   “I was here,” She said, actually stopping her sorting for that short moment to stare at me with conviction. “I never said I would be there. Where is Clarissa?”

   “She didn’t go,” I replied, leaving out some major details. “And neither did Cassie. I was alone down there.”

   Toby looked sympathetic for the shortest amount of time, and then got back to her sorting, casually continuing the conversation. “And how was it?”

   I almost gasped audible. “You didn’t even watch it?! I thought that would be the least you’d do.”

   She sighed, but her apparent rush to sort things took most of her attention. Finished with the current files, she bounced over to the other side of the room and began to empty her bedside table, of all things. “Well, I didn’t. I’m sorry. Did I miss something important?”

   Scanning the room, I was quick to point out a large, black, cuboidal object hung on the far wall. “You couldn’t just switch on that enormous television to watch me ruin my career? You couldn’t be bothered to even have my train wreck on as background noise?!”

   Her form shifted, and she sprang up tall with anger in her eyes. “I’ve been very busy, Taku! I don’t have time right now to worry about a damned television interview, and to be frank, neither do you! Here,” She stomped over as I cowered, and dropped three huge pads of paper into my arms, much to my confusion. “These are yours now. Make sure they’re done by the end of the week.”

   Shaking my head, I choked on my own words, gave up and gazed blankly up at her. Her expression quickly shifted, and she narrowed her eyes to open mine. She explored them and backed off when she was done. “Take the week off. Head home tomorrow and spend the week with our people.”

   By that point I was beyond normal levels of confusion. I placed the files on the sofa that I was leaning against and tried to find the reasons behind her behaviour. “Why are you giving me your files?”

   “Because,” She sighed, returning to her monster task. “I don’t have time for it. I trust you to have our people’s best interests at heart, so I’m passing them on to you.”

   Suddenly, the reality of it pushed itself into my mind. All around Toby’s room were files, pads of paper, folders so full that pages spilled from the sides. And this was just her temporary hotel room. I imagined that files from her office would be joining them. I felt a cold shiver rush over me and I felt dizzied by the situation. “I can’t handle that. There are people who can handle it better than me. I’ll just ruin it!”

   “You’ll be fine,” She reassured unconvincingly. “Once you’ve had some time off, take it slowly and it will be done.”

   Her words didn’t calm me. Her casual tone made things worse, and I shook as I grew ever more frustrated. “Why don’t you have time?! What has suddenly taken priority over the park?”

   “It’s not your business.” She asserted.

   I wasn’t going to let her block my curiosity so cheaply. “I think it is.”

   “It isn’t!” She grunted firmly in reply. Obviously, I wasn’t going to get far in finding a reason, though I desperately wanted to.

   I voiced my displeasure with a loud exhalation. “You must always hold secrets, mustn’t you?”

   “Not this again, Taku. There are some things that I cannot share and this is one of them. I’m sorry if that irritates you, but you just have to deal with it. Now please, let me organise my files in peace! Go play with Clarissa.”

   “Clarissa’s gone.”

   She stood up straight and cocked her head at me. “What do you mean _gone_?”

   I shrugged, almost embarrassed to tell her. “I told her to go home.”

   Toby shook her head and shot me a quizzical stare, the clogs in her head working overtime. “Why?”

   “I don’t need her anymore.”

   She began to look distressed, and she dropped her files and walked directly up to me. “You shouldn’t have done that. You need her now more than ever, Taku.”

   “I’ve learnt what I needed to! I’ve learnt that I can’t trust these Humans. I don’t like them, Toby.”

   To my surprise, she smiled. “You’re right. However, you don’t have to like them; you just have to tolerate them. That’s all.  And they’re not all bad. Clarissa would do anything for you. She may seem a bit preoccupied with her own face at times and she may be very eccentric, but she cares for you deeply.”

   I could see her head blades dipping forward. She meant to touch them against mine, a comfort. I backed away, out of her reach. “It’s her _job_ to care for us! That’s what puts money in her pocket!”

   Toby looked disgusted. “How dare you make such an accusation? Once again, Taku Kelmut, you’re paranoia has gone one step too far! I have known Clarissa for years and not once has she put earnings over me or any of our people! I really don’t know what’s getting into you, but somewhere I’ve gone wrong. I can’t figure out where.”

   “Maybe I can see what you can’t,” I offered with a chunk of smarminess. “You’re playing the Human game, Toby. You’re falling into their traps! That’s why you’re here stacking mountains of paper!”

   “And what do you suggest I do?” She pressed with expert calmness.

   “I… Well…”

   Once more, I came to a crashing halt. Intense anger started to bubble, aimed at myself from within. I turned away from Toby and huffed my disapproval.

   My turn did not work, though. Toby came up close behind me and reached her snout forward to speak as close to my ear as politeness would allow. “I’m sure you’ve learnt already. To clear rotten bark, you must taste it first.”

   Her words span around my head until the meaning clicked into place. Yes, I had learnt it, barely an hour before when my television rant came to a sudden halt with the word _please_. It reverberated cruelly through me.

   I knew it all along, and yet I refused to believe it.

   “I want to go home.” I sobbed, letting the restraints fall away.

   Toby turned me gently and brought me into the embrace that I had refused previously. “I’m sorry that things are the way they are. I’m sorry for leaving all this on your shoulders. Just don’t let it get on top of you. Please.”

   I remained silent and I knew that would worry her, but I had nothing to say. Toby was all that I had left in the whole city, and all I wanted was for her to be as close as possible. She was my lifeline, my guardian angel. She was my second mother.

   “When we go home,” I spoke. “I don’t want to see any newspapers. No TV on the plane.”

   “Just sleep on the journey. No one will wake you,” She let me out of her embrace and looked me over one last time. “You had better sleep now, too. You need it.”

   I didn’t want it, but I knew that I needed it, so I smiled politely and made for the doorway. Toby was nearly finished sorting everything in her room, so I would let her finish uninterrupted. Letting the door close behind me, I walked down the corridor with calmer footsteps to my own room.

   Pushing against the door brought to mind that it needed a key. I sighed and waited for my team of security to finally figure out where I had gotten to. They found me, chastised me and allowed me back into my room. I requested that I be left alone for the night.

   It was dark outside, and all I could hear was the distant rumblings of Human activity that echoed up from twenty stories below. I watched it, pressing my headblades to the window and peeping down to the ground. It was a long way down, and every Human was like a tiny dot among a sea of red and amber glows. There was music, too, but at such a distance it was muffled and airy. It was almost haunting.

   I contemplated sleep to ease my frantic mind. The buzzing in my head was the only sound from within my room. It competed harshly with the noises from outside. I closed the window as firmly as I could, and for a while stared at my reflection that was barely visible on the glass.

   _It will all be fine_ , I told myself, _Toby said that I could have a week to recover. It didn’t need to take any notice of what the Humans said, and I could lock myself away in the office blocks and work on those papers. I was good at that._

_Except for the whole CrescentCreations thing. Don’t forget that, Taku. Don’t forget that. Or the interviews. Don’t forget any of it._

   My body tightened, cringed as my cruel brain dragged back the memories. I stomped away from the window and lay down on my belly across the bed. Not as stable as a tree, but the next best thing.

   I could drown my sorrows in work. Work always took my mind off of things, and Toby had left me with plenty to do. Lots and lots of paragraphs to read, forms to fill, all for the good of my people. My wonderful, peaceful, docile people. They would never put me through televised interviews or lock me away in great skyscrapers.

   But why did Toby need me to do all her work? More personal business, probably. She was always so secretive. Cassie, too. Both too busy to be at the interview. Too busy loading their work onto me. They didn’t want to supervise me anymore. Toby had even told me so after Relk’s funeral.

   They were distancing themselves, pushing me further away and dropping it all on me. What could be more important than their work?

   _They’re leaving, Taku._

   I bolted up with a yelp and instantly charged for the door. It wouldn’t open at first so I pulled as hard as I could. The wood snapped and crumpled and the lock was forced open with a hideous strain. I caught the sight of a security man in black at the other end of the corridor, but he was too far away to intervene. I rushed to Toby’s door, already panting with heavy panicked grunts.

   I pushed it open and felt a cool breeze rush over my face. The room was silent, all but for the air rushing in through the open window on the far side. The white curtains flickered in my direction and pulled me over to look, and I did so with possibilities barraging my head.

   My instinct was to look down. The ground was far, far below, but among the red and amber glows and tiny Human dots I saw no activity. There was no sign of a fallen Hork-Bajir, but the undisturbed strolling of nightlife Humans on their way.

    Looked left and right. Directly upwards, observing the flat walls of the side of the building. She could have climbed out. Nothing.

   Then I noticed a stray deep brown feather as I stumbled back in contemplation. It was blowing gently in the breeze, fluttering down beneath the right-side curtain.

   “Mr Kelmut!” Shouted the security Human. He had caught up. “You can’t just rush out of your room like that! You might bump into somebody!”

   I didn’t even acknowledge him. I turned around, spoke absolutely nothing and marched back to my room. He tried to speak to me, tried to lecture me on what I had done, but I paid no attention. I went back into my room and closed the door as best I could. Splinters held it in place.

   Not even the sounds of outdoor activities infiltrated my room anymore. The world around me was blurring and tugging at every inch of my being. Something was breaking, and the hideous realisation that I was totally alone was the culprit. My hands shook, but the rest of me remained absolutely still. My eyes were open, but little registered other than the dull, nondescript floor.

   It was all trying to destroy me. Everything. Now even one of my own people had deserted me. I never thought that would happen.

  _But Toby was a Seer! So? She is as smart as a Human! She thinks like a Human, talks like a Human…_

   Everything around them was defective. Everything they touched turned to ashes. They were a disease, and I would have nothing to do with them…

  _To clear rotten bark, you must taste it first._

I didn’t want to taste it! I didn’t want to play the sick Human game, but I knew that it was the only way to win.

   It was all such a mess. I wasn’t meant to be there. I was no seer, just an ordinary, ignorant Hork-Bajir. I ate bark and swung in trees, sat around campfires with family. Little more than that.

   I looked up, and there stood before me was a desk. It had a water bottle on it and a pad of paper. There was a lamp, too, and a couple of brochures. They were all Human. I stammered forward and swept them from the desk and onto the floor. Then I turned the desk over and rammed it into the far corner of the room.

   An abstract painting stood proudly, boastfully above that corner. Not for long, however, as it was soon removed and dropped with very little care between the desk legs.

   Everything around me was Human, and it all had to be pulled down. Next, I removed the curtains, the hooks that held them to the wall, popping off in rhythmic fashion. They fell onto me, and in anger I threw them off. Bunching up the fabric, I bowled it into the pile.

   I tore the paintings from the wall, threw down the towels and toilet paper provided in the bathroom, tipped the waste bin onto the floor and kicked it aside. The soaps, the television set, the useless coffee sachets and even the Bible that some presumptuous Human had left.

   Lastly, I ravaged the storage closet. I bit angrily at the redundant ironing board and cursed it, before casually throwing it among the depressing pile that I had created in the corner. The room was empty but for the bed sheets, an alarm clock and a picture frame.

   I picked up the two small bedside items in one big claw and launched them. The alarm clock bounced harmlessly on a scrunched rug, but the picture frame shattered against the desk’s out-sticking leg.

   And I realised what I had just thrown.

   “Oh…” I breathed, “Oh, not that… No!”

   I scurried over, shaking my head profusely. The shards were spilled down into the cracks and crevices of the mound, the once enclosed picture bent and ruined. I gently picked it up and turned it. Three Hork-Bajir faces looked back at me, drowned in the dark shadows of the room, distorted by shattered glass. Mother and Father, smiling, and myself lost in the crease caused by impact.

   I searched for the glass that had fallen, reached into the rolled-up rug and cut myself deeply as I rummaged. I tried to put the glass back together, tried to undo the damage that I had done. It was all futile.

   My only option then was to sob loudly. I curled up with my picture and wept, so deeply guilty that I could do something so cruel to Mother and Father. I loved them, and I loved their picture, but in my rage I had destroyed it.

   “I want Mother,” I whimpered. “I want Father. Taku want home.”

   Time passed, and I didn’t keep track. In my stupor I eventually uncurled, holding the picture to my chest. I took from the pile four towels and a mirror that I had recklessly broken in half. In the darkness I constructed what I needed, fastening the towels to the frame of the mirror and attaching it face-down onto the ceiling above my bed.

   I removed the corner of the bed sheet and crawled under. Gently, letting my body relax and lie sandwiched between the materials. An unnatural position, and I felt the mattress tear beneath my blades now and again. I pulled the sheet over my body, lying with limbs splayed and on my back as I gazed long into the mirror at myself, and I didn’t stop until morning came.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

I was home, having returned from New York in total silence. News had spread quickly about Toby and Cassie’s disappearance through the park team. It wasn’t headline news immediately, but as their absence lengthened it was quickly gathering steam. My escorts back at the park tried to get answers from me, as did the staff of the hotel we were staying at, but I kept my suspicions to myself. I wasn’t going to supply the media with more ammunition.

   As soon as I was let loose back into the park, I ran straight for the trees, jumped up and sprinted home, having answered none of their questions. The ramifications might become apparent later, but at that moment all I wanted was my own tree, fresh bark and the presence of Hork-Bajir around me. They accepted me back as if I hadn’t even left.

   I didn’t tell Mother and Father that I had broken the picture frame. They most likely wouldn’t understand, anyway.

   Sleep was the first thing on my mind. Once home, I said hello and retreated to my own branch high up in the canopies. I clung to it, wrapped my head beneath my arms to stand a chance of rest. Thankfully, the family knew well enough to leave me alone, and I managed to sleep for a short while. Night time was more difficult, however. The quiet allowed thoughts to invade my head again.

   I shuffled from my motionless state as soon as I heard my neighbours doing the same. I cut myself some breakfast from a nearby pine, drank some water from the river and finally started to think things over with a calm mind. In a meditative state, I sat on the outskirts of our locality where I was unlikely to be interrupted. Only the birds and the insects would disturb me in the dense pack of trees.

   There was a lot to think about. In one disastrous sweep Toby, Cassie and Clarissa had gone. My three capable guardians who had taught me up till then. Who else was there? Jonathan? Jason? They weren’t trained to take part-time care of an adolescent Hork-Bajir. They had no experience. Clarissa had been around Hork-Bajir for years, Toby _was_ a Hork-Bajir, and Cassie… I didn’t even want to think of Cassie’s experiences.

   I didn’t trust any other Humans. Mainly because I didn’t really know any. I didn’t want to be alone again, not even for a few hours in the dangerous Human world. I needed companionship and I needed protection. I wouldn’t go back without.

   My head dropped into my hands and my tail gripped onto the snowy ground beneath me. Avoiding stress was something else I was aiming for. I needed to remain calm and I had a week of freedom to achieve that. Perhaps it would have been better to go sniffing out some new bark or new people. Maybe I could play with my friends.

   I hadn’t seen my friends for a while and I instantly began to wonder how they were coping after the loss of Relk. Would they ever want to explore again?

   Then an idea hit me. It made my decision to see my friends much, much easier.

   They weren’t easy to find. Since they were usually together at that time of day, finding one meant finding the other. However, I couldn’t predict what they would be doing.

   I spotted Pluk’s huge form clutching to the side of an unharvested tree, upside down and with his head peeking around the trunk to a nearby clearing. Ruga was in the next tree over, doing the same but the right way up. I arrived behind them and expected them to at least acknowledge my presence.

   Well, they did, just without the usual bouncy enthusiasm that young Hork-Bajir display.

   Clearly, that was the issue: they weren’t that young anymore.

   “Hello, Pluk. Hello, Ruga.” I introduced with huge curiosity as to what they were gazing at.

   They both grunted back a greeting, but their eyes remained fixated on the clearing. I adjusted my position to follow their stares and in the clearing ahead I saw a small group of young females. Admittedly, I began to stare as well.

   They were growing up, just as I was. They were at their adult heights, their blades large and precise. Their head blades raked forward like crescent moons in the night sky. For a while I had been the more mature, but they had surely caught up.

   Pluk rubbed his neck. “Pluk think _Kalshi_ look nice today.” He offered ponderously.

   “Yes,” Ruga agreed. “Ruga think, too.”

   I made my way onto Pluk’s tree in an effort to grab his full attention. “It’s natural. You’re adolescents.”

   The new word caught their attentions. Ruga asked, “What adollisunds?”

   “You aren’t _kawatnoj_ anymore,” I said. “You are nearly adults. Adults become mothers and fathers.”

   I could see the confusion in their faces. Obviously, the topic was a little over their heads. Pluk finally turned himself the right way up and suggested, “Pluk be father, like Father.”

   “Yes,” I responded, ending the conversation before it would inevitably jump over awkward boundaries. “Now, are we going to say hello?”

   That seemed to shake them back into reality, and they bolted up and out of their daydreams. “Hello, Taku!” They both called with the enthusiasm I remembered them for.

   “Taku back.” Ruga observed proudly.

   “And very happy for it,” I mused to myself. “What are you doing today?”

   Ruga grinned. “Ruga watch _Kalshi_. Pluk watch _Kalshi._ Taku watch _Kalshi_.”

   Pluk, quite helpfully, repeated the exact same trio of statements.

   “Haven’t you done that enough?” I asked. “Why don’t we go down to talk to them? It sure beats watching, doesn’t it?”

   I let it sink in. A few seconds later, Pluk managed to pull some meaning out of the air. “Pluk talk to _Kalshi_!”

   “Ruga talk, too.”

   “Good,” I grunted. “Then let’s go talk with them. I’m sure that we haven’t met them before, so it would be nice to introduce.”

   I made the first movements to jump down from our tree, pulling my foot from the branch and dropping my tail downwards, when I noticed both of my friends staring hard at my face. Usually their eyes would be trailing elsewhere, but at that moment they were unmoving.

   “Why are you staring?” I requested awkwardly.

   Ruga cocked his head as he tried to figure something out. “Taku different.” He concluded.

   Pluk had the same idea. “Taku feel bad?”

   I furrowed my eyes and began to conjure up a reason for their concern. It was similar to the look that Toby had given me when she told me to take a week off. I never assumed that my friends would pick up on it just as well as Toby. Perhaps I had underestimated them.

   I broke the eye contact and pulled myself towards the trunk of the tree, grappling my arms around it to lower myself down. “Come on, before they find something else to do.”

   We jogged over just in time. Two females, or _Kalshi_ , remained in the clearing, apparently exploring the contents of a mound of freshly stripped bark from a variety of trees. They noticed us approaching and the usual greeting rituals took place.

   The females were from the neighbouring colony, and they had explored in our direction for new trees. Therefore, the biggest talking points for the group were the differences in our homes. It was intriguing stuff, but I found that most of the time I was staring off into space.

   “Tree have bug!” One of our new friends called Koop Explained. “Bug have four legs and two legs.”

   Six, of course. Thankfully, my comrades understood well enough. Pluk added, “Pluk tree have bug, too! See lots.”

   “Ruga see big bug!” Ruga said dramatically. “Lot and lots of legs. More than Taku Kelmut count!”

   Our new friends already recognised my name. They knew that I was a seer. Yet, as expected with the Hork-Bajir, nothing really changed. They relied on me more for answering difficult questions, but I was just another one of them. I was another stranger or a friend. I much preferred it that way.

   Koop and Yafi were generous to share their bark collection with us, and as we ate I noticed that Ruga and Koop in particular were getting along fantastically. I could see a bond forming, and with my mind still glued to the task at hand, I took it as an opportunity to do what I needed to do. As Ruga and Koop became more concentrated on each other, I formulated a plan to bring Pluk away. The only issue was not leaving Yafi stranded. I took the two aside.

   “You wanted to play a game?” I asked Yafi. She stood beside me, waiting patiently for me to fulfil a promise. “Okay, I have an idea.”

   She nodded enthusiastically and shuffled on her feet. “Game!”

   I made sure that Pluk was paying attention, and explained what I had in mind. “We will find new bark. But we go by ourselves and bring back what we find. Bring it back to this spot. Then we decide who found the tastiest bark.”

   It was a popular idea, judging by their reactions and eagerness to get started. Pluk asked, “Start now?”

   “Yes!” I announced. “Yafi, you should go that way!”

   I pointed southwards to a thick wall of trees. Yafi did not hesitate for a second and spun on her feet to charge onwards to her mission. That left myself and Pluk stood alone, though I still needed to make it look genuine.

   “Where Pluk go?” He asked me.

   “That way,” I answered, pointing in the opposite direction towards another grouping of trees. “Hurry, before Yafi gets back.”

   Given his cue, he sprang into action. He headed for his designated group of trees with his greatest pace. That was problematic, because he was considerably faster than I was. Not only that, but in case Yafi was looking, I decided to head in a westerly direction, hoping to cut Pluk off as I swung around. I hit the trees and threw myself up high. Once into the canopies, I held myself for a moment and changed my direction. I only hoped that Pluk would spend time investigating the first trees instead of sprinting further out.

   I travelled for a distance that felt like it should have crossed his path, but I saw no sign of him. I sighed and sat back on a branch, assuming that he had gone further ahead. In the mass of trees, it would be near impossible to spot him. I would have to try a new tactic. Maybe just pull him aside like any sane person would…

   “Taku Kelmut get lost,” Pluk spoke up, making me jump and almost lose my balance. He was behind me, peering out from the neighbouring tree. “This where Pluk go. Taku go that way.” He said, pointing in the wrong direction.

   “Actually, Pluk,” I replied, standing up to recover from the shock he gave me. “I need to talk to you.”

   He shook his head. “Find bark now. Talk later?”

   I grunted. “Honestly, I made us do this just so I could get you alone.”

   Pluk stared, curiously wondering what I was trying to do. He pulled himself to a more stable seated position on his branch and waited with firm attention. With it, I knew I could make my offer.

   “Pluk,” I started slowly, trying to word it so that he could understand. “I go to the Human cities a lot now. I always had Toby Hamee with me, and Clarissa. You met her, didn’t you?”

   He nodded. “Clarissa Human. Say Pluk big.”

   “Yes, she did. Both of them are gone now. They are somewhere else, and will not come to the cities with me anymore.”

   He was still listening intently, which was very good. He understood it so far. I made sure by asking, and he said, “Pluk know. Taku alone.”

   The last two words stunned me. He already knew what it meant. “I don’t want to be alone,” I summarised. “I don’t feel safe, because Humans are very dangerous.”

   “Dangerous?” He repeated sceptically. “Pluk not think. Humans nice.”

   “I understand why you’d think that,” I murmured. “But I still need security. Would you be interested in being my bodyguard?”

   He turned his head quizzically. “Bodyguard?”

   I considered how to explain without putting him off. “You’ll be with me most of the time, just making sure that nothing bad happens to me. You’ll be able to see how the Humans live, too, which I’m sure you’ll find very exciting!”

   It was definitely working. I could see a smile forming on his face, and his head lifted with interest. “Go to see Humans with Taku?”

   “Yes!” I said. “I’m sure you’d do the job very well!”

   I wasn’t lying. Pluk had barely stopped growing since birth, and he stood at least a couple of feet taller than even the average Hork-Bajir, like myself. His build was still athletic and strong, so much that one could say he was built like a concrete wall. If Humans were scared of me, I didn’t even need to contemplate how they would react to him in the middle of a city hotel.

   “Do good!” He exclaimed, raising himself. “Pluk be bodyguard for Taku. Make Taku safe!”

   I smiled to him, revelling in how easily convinced my people were. “Thank you, Pluk. We can start next week. You’ll come to the Yellowstone Centre with me.”

   But by that point, he wasn’t fully focused. He was too giddy about his exciting new responsibilities. Keen to learn, he asked. “How Pluk do?”

   “Do… Oh, How to be a bodyguard? It’s easy,” I suggested, stepping onto his branch. “Just stand with me. That’s it.”

   He grinned and looked proudly to the tops of the trees. “Pluk stand with Taku lots. Easy!”

   “Yes,” I agreed. “But that’s it. Nothing more, unless I say so.”

   “Just stand?” He questioned, enthusiasm slightly blunted.

   “Unless I say otherwise.”

   “Unless Taku say otherwise…” He muttered. Then, he stood up tall, laughed, and simply moved beside me. “Pluk do!”

   It was a game to him. There he stood, proud and effortless, a barrier to the rest of the world. All the while, he chuckled to himself, enjoying the thought of new adventures and new worlds. I couldn’t help but feel the worst kind of guilt.

   And Pluk unintentionally made it even worse. He turned to me midway through his bodyguard duty. “Ruga too small for bodyguard. What Ruga do?”

   I blinked and started peeling off random strips from the nearest trunk so that it would seem that we were actually playing the bark-hunting game. “Ruga? Well, nothing.”

   “Ruga come, too.” Pluk prodded.

   I sensed his inevitable reaction and tried to soften the blow. “I can only bring one person. Maybe next time we’ll bring Ruga, too. Besides, he’ll be fine without us.”

   Pluk pouted. “No Ruga come.”

   “No Ruga come,” I confirmed. I was already beginning to have my doubts about the decision, and though Pluk quickly returned to his content and optimistic state, I knew that part of him was already grieving the left-behind Ruga.

   It was all part of growing up. They needed to learn how to be away from their friends. They needed to leave each other behind every so often.

   So why couldn’t I?

   I was different. I was living a half-Human, half-Hork-Bajir life. I needed to take something from home as a safety blanket. Somebody. Pluk would come to no harm, because no Human would dare go near him.

   Would Pluk enjoy his new job as my barrier, as a shield for my eyes and my ears?

   He’d see it as an adventure, of course. He would find the joy in it that I could not.

   Only time would tell. I noticed him staring at me with that concerned expression again. “Taku feel bad?”

   I shook my head both as a response and to rid myself of the thoughts. “No. I feel good. Quick, you should find some bark and get back, or Yafi will wonder where we’ve gone.”

   He smiled and uttered abrupt laughter. “Taku find, too! Not quick as Pluk!”

   With that, he bounced away in search of delicious bark. I was alone in the canopies, investigating every nook and cranny of the decision that I had made. I justified, criticised, praised myself and vilified myself. All the while I sat on the branch, slowly cutting strips of bark from the tree to fulfil my part of the game. Small strips that I clutched in my hands and my snout, larger ones that I held beneath my arms.

   By the end of my contemplation, I had enough. Too much, even. I dropped whatever I held in my mouth and sighed, realising that I had been looking at my thighs the whole time. My friends would be waiting for me. I stood, dropped a couple pieces of bark, and prepared myself to leap back to the clearing where no doubt I would unveil the least interesting of the three collections.

   I stopped myself, and Toby’s words delved swiftly into my head. I wanted help. I wanted guidance. All that was around to help me was the big tree in which I was stood, curled within its comforting branches like a lost child. My eyes latched on, and I gawked up and down the thick pine’s trunk. I could sense something other than bark and sap and leaves, and I moved instinctively closer. Wind blew over my ears, twisting around the branches and pulling me ever closer. The whisper clicked and creaked as nature rolled against the withstanding surface.

   It was speaking to me. Trying to.  The language was so delicate but at the same time so vague and monotone. It was inaudible.

   Nevertheless, I tried to listen, tried to let the words sink into my mind and provide me with the answers that I needed.

   “Answer me.” I demanded under the subtlety of a whisper.

   The winds slowed, and the leaves ceased their rustling. The wood remained still, unrelenting.

   “Relk, please answer me.”

   The world was a deadly silence, the activities of noises leaving me behind. Nothing would speak to me then. I headed back to the clearing.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

   I brought Pluk to the office on my first day back. As expected, the piles of paperwork had built up to mountainous proportions and the media curiosity about my activity had not entirely vanished. The Human population had even started to piece a puzzle together that wasn’t there to begin with, linking Toby’s and Cassie’s disappearances with my televisual escapades. I knew that it wasn’t about that. I was almost certain.

   Pluk was excited about his new job and he followed me dutifully to the Yellowstone Centre, all the while asking what kind of things he had to do, where he had to go and whether his new role would lead to tasty new bark. The answers to the questions never changed, yet he continued to ask those same questions in a variety of ways. I didn’t mind his inquisitive company, as it kept me occupied.

   He went a little bit quieter as we finally arrived at the building. He remembered the place, but it still looked utterly bizarre to him. The grandeur of the building had long since lost its effect on me, but he was still enthralled, at least enough for him to stop asking me questions.

   Nobody knew he was coming. I hadn’t arranged with staff that Pluk would be present, nor did I care. He was a friend coming along to visit. Why should I require their permission, especially since Toby had passed on her work to me. I was effectively taking over her position. No longer was I merely a novice office worker. I was in one of the top positions. The position of Hork-Bajir governor, however, was still one that I was reluctant to take on. It was unlikely that I would be offered it anyway.

   Not only was Toby’s disappearance an inconvenience for me, it was an inconvenience to everyone else in the building, too. That was evident as we crossed the boundary through the automatic doors. Already I could sense a nervous atmosphere, the noises of busy Humans trying to catch up with the uncatchable. I saw several staff jogging between offices with sheets of paper and Apple products, their eyes glued to email addresses and digital keyboards. What I always thought to be a relaxed setting had, within a week, been consumed in panic and confusion.  Perhaps nobody would notice the 9-foot Hork-Bajir who had just entered, especially when he was hushed in silence.

   “Come on, Pluk,” I said to break our momentary silence. “Let’s go up to my office. I think I have a lot of work to do.”

   I decided that we would take the elevator in order to avoid too much attention. Pluk grumbled as he squeezed into the small space, dipping his neck and head down and pouting at me uncomfortably. “Small.” He observed.

   I wanted to reassure him that my office had more headroom for him, but that would have been a lie. “A bodyguard doesn’t always have to stand.” I offered helpfully.

   Not that he knew what a real bodyguard did. My explanations so far had been simplistic and coated in sugar.

   When we re-emerged from the elevator and onto my office floor, Pluk smiled as he was freed from the low elevator ceiling. As he enjoyed the scenery, I inspected the area and shuddered when I noticed all the activity. The staff on my floor were buzzing around like disturbed ants. They immediately noticed my presence. Some gave me unnerving stares, others avoided that altogether.

   The air was filled with the sounds of unsatisfied grumbling, sheets of paper flying, and telephones ringing with nobody able to answer. It was frantic, and crossing the open floor to my office would require that I announced my presence.

   Though I didn’t need to, because the manager, Grant Higham, did that bit for me. He was brown-haired man of average Human height and a bright orange tie hung over his sky blue shirt. Apart from that, he had few distinguishing features that I could decipher with Hork-Bajir eyes. Sometimes a little stubble wrapped around his chin, but not then.

   “Taku!” He called from the other end of the staff frenzy, bringing a premature end to a conversation that he was having with Jonathan. I could tell he was in a bad mood. “Who is that?!”

   He was asking about Pluk, of course. By now, everybody had noticed our presence and cleared a path. We both marched towards Grant. “A friend,” I replied. “He’s here with me.”

   Grant lowered his head, eyes closed as if restraining himself. Without looking to me, he asked monotonously, “Does he have any specific reason to be here?”

   “Yes,” I responded. “He will be with me in my office. There is no issue.”

   As Grant contemplated, my senses caught onto the fact that the entire floor had slowed, almost stopped as Pluk’s monstrous size became apparent up close. Everyone backed away just a little bit further and they gawked up at him like some revered statue.

   When Grant finally decided to look up again, he jumped. Pluk seemed much larger up close and we were standing right before him. I could see his predicted lines of argument fade away into the cowering mess that befell him.

   Everybody in the building had been up close to a Hork-Bajir before, even those who dwelled solely in the offices and not in the actual park itself. Most working at the Centre had done voluntary work where they actually spent time with my people in the park. They were all used to us and had no hesitation in being around us. But Pluk was different. Sheer size made even the more Hork-Bajir-friendly in the building think twice. I had definitely made the right decision to hire him.

   Nevertheless, the moments of hesitance passed. Grant cleared his throat. “Well whatever he’s here for, don’t let it get in the way of your work, Mr Kelmut! We’re up to our necks and you’ve been missing for a week! Explain that to me!”

   “Toby told me to take the week off.”

   He turned his head angrily. “You realise that Toby is missing, right?”

   “Of course I realise that,” I grumbled. “That doesn’t mean that I would lie about such a thing.”

   Though he was angry - not necessarily at me but at everything going on around him – he considered what I said and bit his lips curiously. “Taku, where did she go?”

   “I wouldn’t know.” I said truthfully.

   His hopes crushed, his stern expression made its grand return. “Well, whatever. Get back to your office. Some of Toby’s workload has been added to yours. We all need to ration it out so that we can get over this mess.”

   I felt a sudden jab. This was an injustice that my instinct found alone. “No! You will not ration it out! Toby gave that work to me and only me!”

   He was bewildered, and he responded in a baffled tone. “What?! Taku, are you a fucking moron?! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but it isn’t normal! Now, you aren’t in charge here! It was Toby’s decision to bring you in here and now that she’s gone, I will have no hesitation in throwing you out by the tail! You’ve already caused us enough trouble with that train-wreck of an interview! From now on, Mr Kelmut, you don’t have a say in the matter! You will sit down, shut up and do exactly as you’re told!”

   The entire building seemed to freeze in time as our voices raised and the pointless argument began. I let that go away and forced myself into the little bubble between us. We didn’t need the opinions of anybody else. “I repeat: Toby gave that work to me! The Governor herself! I will take the governor’s orders over yours whatever the circumstance, and just because she’s not here to defend her decision does not mean that you can overrule it! She doesn’t want filthy Human hands meddling in our affairs and that’s why she gave it to me!”

   “Fine!” He yelped, throwing his arms up in frustration. He broke the bubble that I had just formed and addressed the whole floor, stomping away from me and Pluk. “Everyone! Toby’s files to Taku’s office! He’s doing it all! Just remind him that his ass is out of here the moment he makes a spelling mistake!”

   Nobody came up to offer anything to me, which wasn’t a surprise. The atmosphere was far too awkward. In the end, I got what I wanted, so I was happy.

   I led Pluk back to my office and put up with his whining when he realised how low my ceiling was. Considering that my headblades almost scraped the ceiling, Pluk would either have to walk around hunched over or sit down for the duration of his duty. Aside from the ceiling, he was also increasingly nervous about the environment, especially after witnessing the little scuffle with the manager.

   “Why Human yell?” He questioned meekly as he observed his new, claustrophobic surroundings. I could see that he was clearly shaken up by the experience.

   “It’s  nothing, Pluk,” I reassured. My first glimpse around the familiar office brought my attention to five large folders and three piles of paper that took up most, if not all of the room on my desk.  Having not being sat at for quite a while, it had been used as a bin for every piece of work that they expected me to complete, not including Toby’s work that was to be passed on. I flicked a finger through one of the paper piles, and found that some of it was indeed Toby’s work. There were the signatures of big important companies and famously influential individuals. Names that would have no business with me. “Looks like I have plenty to keep me busy.”

   I would be there for the rest of the day. It was a delicate balancing act, on one side getting as much work done as possible, the other trying to keep Pluk amused. My first point of call was to check emails. Little did I realise how full the inbox would be after weeks of going unchecked. Most of the day was to be spent sorting those alone.

   It was not pleasant viewing, either. The majority of the emails were concerning Cassie and Toby, either asking me politely if I had any idea where they were, or demanding that I gave answers. I replied to about fifteen with the simple words “I don’t know.” I gave up and discarded the others. My words would be of no help.

   Other emails were more suited to my normal working day. Unfortunately, a lot of those were the predicted moanings of CrescentCreations, who were both angered by my television interview and amused at how it had potentially worked in their favour.

   That reminded me. At the lower left side of my laptop screen was the button that would bring up the internet, a huge web of essentially everything that the Human race has done, at least over the last few years.

   How had the Humans really reacted to the interview? It can’t have been a good reaction. That was impossible…

   Would they link me to Toby’s disappearance? I had to know.

   I clicked the button. My clogged computer took a few seconds to react but eventually brought up the internet browser directly onto a search engine. I guided the mouse and tapped onto the web address bar, bringing up my most searched results…

   Hair care, nail polish, Johnny Depp… Clarissa’s presence still lurked.

   But hidden somewhere among the pointless link was the main news website that I frequented. I clicked and braced myself for the worst. Of course, the first pictures to burst from my computer screen were of Cassie and Toby. Side-by-side, the images sat atop the headline that read “New Theories of New York Disappearances.”

   So the Humans had long been questioning, which matched my expectations. I clicked on the link curiously and began to read the whole story. Typically, it was rather sensationalist, written to guide the reader one way or the other. Seeing through that, I skipped over the garbage and took only the plan facts from the article.

   The Humans had narrowed in on several pieces of evidences to be key: They were always close, both as friends and as allies; they were both war heroes, instrumental in the defeat of the Yeerks on Earth and the ending of the empire; they were both controversial figures in many regards, with great political influence. All valid points, but they all implied something that simply hadn’t happened. The articles looked back and didn’t think to take a broader approach.

   But the theme ran through the internet. From that article I browsed, following a path of related articles and alternate theories. They all looked for somebody else to blame. _Toby and Cassie are icons of stability and responsibility_.

   Then there were those who blamed me. I found that some articles suggested that my “unhinged” interview was a big factor in their disappearance. Some even placed it as the sole factor, though those particular articles were found on the so-called fringe websites. More specifically, anti-alien sites, though a couple had less offensive agendas.

   I dared to delve into the analyses. It took a little more digging, the interview being over-shadowed by the justifiably more newsworthy stories around Toby and Cassie, but there was plenty to chew on. I sniffed around the big news sites first, stumbling initially onto an article titled “Hork-Bajir Seer’s Human Rant: More Bark Than Bite.”

   It described me in distinctly unpleasant terms. I was apparently rabid, schizophrenic and judgmental. My performance shook the media that had previously taken me as a shy, naïve outsider trying its hand at media. That opinion had most definitely changed and according to the article, the newsrooms all over the nation were having a field day, picking at my bones and digging my political grave.

   It reported of death threats, with the major example being from a man in Missouri, tweeting to the company:

   _If that anti-American lizard comes to my town, I’ll be making myself some fancy new boots! #America #APHR_

   Many followed, but that was their favourite. The theme of comparing me to an animal flowed in and out of the article like the fabric of a close-knit sweater. It was too easy, I thought, but perfect material for stirring the uneasy masses. I wanted to click on the APHR hashtag, but decided against it. I didn’t need to see that.

   Understandably, my comments against the Human race were derided. I received unanimous criticism and unapologetically deemed unworthy of Toby’s position, should it ever come available.

   Much to their discomfort, that seemed increasingly more likely by the day. Toby’s absence was raising questions about the leadership of the Hork-Bajir and the only other seer, barring a massive oversight, was me. They couldn’t trust me, but who else was there to take the position? Some suggested Ket Halpak, but those were few and far between.

   There were other opinions that rose above the confusion, however. For a long time the Humans had noticed that Toby had been tutoring me. They knew that I had been learning from her, observing her speeches and her work. Then suddenly, I find myself on television, slamming the Human race and exclaiming how much I hated them. The Humans had fit the pieces of the puzzle together and come to the disastrously false conclusion that my opinions came from her, the only difference being that I hadn’t learned to keep my snout shut.

   They began to think that Toby had implanted the ideas into my head. She was to blame, and suddenly her position as governor was coming under fire.

   _That is why she would run_ , they thought. _She’s been found out. Anti-Human._

It was wrong. Totally wrong. It was something that I would need to clear up. I wasn’t going to take Toby down on my sinking ship.

   With the governor’s position in question, several articles began to speculate what would happen if Toby disappeared for good. Surprisingly, I was tipped as the favourite to succeed her, on the grounds that the position was designated to Hork-Bajir alone and I was the only viable candidate. The other options were, of course, Humans. Nobody from the park. Just a few up-and-coming politicians and one or two rich people willing to throw money at an exciting new project.

   Even the media knew it was dangerous. Toby Hamee was long trusted in her position due to her lack of need for money and the fact that she cared solely for her people. A corrupt politician could be a detriment to Hork-Bajir lives. At least the media were correct in that case.

   Toby was alive. I knew that, but I could tell no one. She would be back to retake her position, but I didn’t know when. She had given me her paperwork, but did she intend to give her position for a temporary time. I only wished that I could go back in time to ask her.

   I didn’t have to wait long to make my decision. I wallowed in the figurative pits of the internet for a good while longer to establish the wholly negative Human opinion of me, viewed a number of unflattering memes and browsed the insulting tweets. Once I’d had enough, I closed my laptop, only to see Pluk’s head rested on the desk behind the screen.

   “Hello again.” I said, re-emerging from my computer stupor to remember that I had brought him along.

   He lifted his head from the table. I had no idea how long he had been sat there. “What Taku do?”

   “Oh, just catching up on what I’ve missed,” I replied casually. “Nothing important.”

   He clearly didn’t think that the computer was unimportant. “What?” He asked curiously, indicating the machine with a long stare.

   “That’s my laptop,” I explained. “It’s what I use to do a lot of my work on. It’s Human technology.”

   “Make bright light like Sun.” He observed with a wondrous sigh.

   “You’re bored, aren’t you?” I chuckled. It wasn’t hard to tell.

   Pluk shrugged, but straightened his form to sit upright before my desk. “Taku sit long. Pluk sit long. Pluk not have taplop.”

   I smiled to myself. Such a trivial problem was actually a pleasure to be stuck with. Pluk may have grown up, but any Hork-Bajir, young or old, needs to have their mind occupied with something. In my office, however, there wasn’t as much apart from paper that he could use and I wasn’t keen on him using that.

   “Next time,” I said, “We’ll remember to bring something with us. There isn’t much in this building for you.”

   He continued to stare, unconvinced. Then we were both distracted by a weak knocking at the office door. I instinctually grabbed a form and a pen, posing as if in the middle of a signature. “Pluk,” I hissed. “Pretend to be a bodyguard. Stand up.”

   “Yes, Taku.” He said with an ignorant grin. This time, he made sure not to bang his headblades on the ceiling. Still not used to his role, he stood facing me.

   “Turn around,” I uttered. Obediently, he turned to the door, finally in a good position. Ready for whoever came in, I called, “Come in.”

   The door opened slowly, and from around the corner came a familiar face, the ceiling lights reflecting strongly off his thick spectacles. I dropped the pen from my hand as Jonathan tip-toed tentatively into the office.

   When he spotted Pluk around the door, his already cautious state was amplified and he almost dropped the small collection of papers that he held. Pluk was almost twice his height and that was intimidating enough. Jonathan, however, was not one that needed intimidating. He was one of the few Humans I felt a modicum of trust towards.

   “I don’t believe you’ve met,” I said from behind my desk. “Jonathan, this is Pluk Mett. Pluk Jonathan. “

   They shook hands and exchanged nervous smiles. With them introduced, we could get on with business.

   “Taku…” Jonathan started, looking sheepishly towards the papers he held. “I’ve got these for you.”

   I took note of his nervous avoidance. “What are they? Toby’s files?”

   “Yeah. You wanted them?”

   “Of course I do. Why are you more edgy than usual today?”

   Jonathan flinched like I had hit him. Then, for the first time, he made eye contact. I did my best to look patient and caring and it seemed to work. He kept eye contact and approached with the papers. “I wanted to know if we were cool, you know…”

   I could have feigned ignorance and gone on about the weather, but there wasn’t much point in avoiding what he was implying. “I got a little carried away,” I sighed. “I don’t hate _all_ Humans. You are an exception, Jonathan. You haven’t wronged me.”

   Part of me expected a smile, an acknowledgement that all was fine with me and the staff and him specifically, but all I got was an accepting nod. He spoke nothing more of it. “This just came through Toby’s files,” He mumbled, passing the papers into my waiting hand. “It’s pretty big.”

   I didn’t need his explanations. I held the first page and read it silently to myself, leaving Pluk and Jonathan to stand awkwardly before me.

   The message was plain and cleared, summarised perfectly in the opening paragraph. It brought me back to a news story I had heard before my second interview. The plans to build a new freeway through the centre of the park had been bouncing around for quite some time, the only obstacle being the park’s status as a protected site of natural interest. That, now, was being challenged. Not only that, but plans to build a town in Yellowstone were also proposed, should the park’s reservation status be changed.

   Toby’s letter had come from the Wyoming State officials. Negotiations were going to commence next week.

   Negotiations meant compromise. It meant sacrifice.

   There was silence from my two friends. Pluk was in a world of his own, gazing at the ceiling panels, and Jonathan was staring in the opposite direction, hands behind his back like he was ready to accept my shouts of dissatisfaction. He truly was a man who put too much on his own shoulders.

   “Jonathan,” I said, spooking him just slightly. “Don’t look so petrified. You aren’t the one building this damn freeway.”

   He gained some level of confidence. “Should I pass it onto Eric? He usually goes in Toby’s place when she’s unavailable.”

   I cocked my head at him, baffled by the suggestion. “Why would you bring it to me if you meant to give it to Eric? No. This is my responsibility. I want all of Toby’s work here, where it belongs.”

   “Okay, Taku,” He stuttered. “Does this mean that you’re going to the negotiations?”

   I snorted, raising myself from my seat and allowing my tail to get some space. “Negotiations? I’ll make sure that no such thing takes place. I will not allow them to build their roads over my people’s homes. I don’t care what they think of me.”

   As I leaned against the desk, he likewise rested himself against the nearest wall. At least by that point he had realised that I was not going to snap at him. “I don’t think Grant will let you.”

   “And why not?” I asked, suspecting the answer.

   Jonathan shrugged. “Toby was invited. Invited as the governor.”

   “But she isn’t here,” I pointed out. “And as the only viable replacement, it is my duty to take her place. I don’t care what Grant thinks. He can threaten me all he wants, but without me in this building, he has no connection with my people for as long as Toby is absent. We strip all ties to this damn centre and we allow nobody into the park. He wouldn’t dare risk that happening.”

   “I don’t think he would fire you,” Jonathan replied. “Lot of stress here lately.”

   “Because of my interview.” I guessed.

   Jonathan shrugged once again, looking to the door. “Partly, you know… But… But mostly Toby and Cassie. They did a lot here.”

   I managed to smile, though I doubted that he noticed. “It’s perfectly understandable. Only a week ago, the place was represented by two famed war heroes, both respected worldwide, their faces on posters and books in every store, every library. Brilliant minds and even better leaders who played their parts in rescuing an entire race and bringing them to a hostile new world, only to see the population thrive with near total acceptance from a violent and territorial species. A week later, and they have me.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

The meeting was taking place in Cheyenne, a gathering between state government officials to discuss plans that would strip the park of its reserve status. I received no formal invitation to the event at first, but I took Toby’s from her office pigeonhole and informed the hosts that I would take her place. They weren’t too happy, and neither was Grant Higham, but both succumbed when I offered for Ket Halpak to take Toby’s place instead. With the plans destined to affect my people heavily, the presence of at least one Hork-Bajir was required according to the Alien Rights Act, 2004. I was not the ideal choice, but at least I would have some grasp of what was going on. Ket may have been an iconic war hero, but she certainly was no politician.

   I didn’t want to go. To be stuck in a soulless grey building, surrounded by Humans in suit willing to catch me at any wrong turn, staring at me like I was an active volcano ready to blow, was not how I wanted to spend my time. Nevertheless, I refused not to. I had to go, not for them but for myself.

   “Door so small…” Pluk whined as we stood on the outside in the cool Cheyenne winter air. We stared at the entrance to the building where the meeting took place, having just arrived with our team of security.

   If I thought getting myself there was tough, getting Pluk there was even harder. Despite his liabilities, I did not regret the decision.

   The doorways, halls and offices in the Yellowstone centre were built with an average-sized Hork-Bajir in mind. Mostly. Pluk struggled for space there, but the new building would be terrible for his posture. Not only that, but transporting him was enough of a chore. We took a small bus with several seats removed so that he had adequate room.

   His presence worked, however. As we stood outside that Human-sized entrance, every Human in the vicinity retreated by at least twenty feet, only willing to stare from a distance. How funny it was, seeing them hesitate and anxiously retreat while Pluk would smile and wave to them like they were his close friends. It was poetically illustrative of our species’ relationship. Funny, yet desperately distressing.

   “The door is small, yes,” I spoke to him. “And the corridors will provide little relief. Once this is all done, we will head to the hotel. They have trees where it will be much more comfortable.”

   “Human tree not have Hork-Bajir tree?” He asked.

   “No. There are no trees in there.”

   We waited by the entrance while our escorts made sure everything was okay for us to proceed. The staff of the building also had to make sure that our passage through was clear. They wanted to clear away valuables before we dragged our blades through their precious halls.

   We were also waiting for our new supervisor. New was an appropriate description.

   She struggled to our side with a heavy backpack on her shoulder, groaning like she had so many better things to do. Her hair was light blonde, almost white that fell to her shoulders, and she bore an expression of constant gaumlessness. Her voice grated, and she liked to use it as her main weapon. It sliced the air and scraped my ear drums like nails on a chalkboard. She may have only been two-thirds that height of Pluk (though admittedly a third wider than him), but even he would cower in her presence. I noticed him flinching when she unleashed her voice once again.

   “What are you waiting for?!” She screeched, staring viciously wide-eyed up at us.

   “You,” I responded, avoiding those soulless eyes. “Everything was ready apart from you.”

   She opened her mouth and her eyes even further. I closed mine, expecting her attempt to win the pointless battle. “Do you want me to hold your hand or something? I’m sure you can walk perfectly fine without me. You’re late! Get in!”

   “Sandy,” I sighed, holding back the rant that I so wished to battle with. “You are our supervisor. Your job is to supervise us in these-”

   “My job,” She growled with a voice that almost brought the city to a standstill. “Does not mean that I have to hold your hand everywhere you go. Get in before I whack you!”

   Arguing with her in a pubic area would do nothing for my reputation. I would only let her ruin her own. Turning away from her, I aided Pluk in getting through the automatic doors. He dipped his body under, keeping his arm blades to his side and his tail to the ground as I had instructed. We emerged into the reception which had a high ceiling, but that still forced Pluk to hunch forward.

   The receptionist had been informed of our arrival, but upon seeing us her face turned a little whiter under her coats of make-up. I asked Pluk to stand nearby while I spoke to her.

   The brown-haired receptionist gave her required smile. “Mr Kelmut?”

   “Yes, this is Mr Kelmut,” Sandy answered for me, her aged red face appearing to my right. “Sorry he’s late, my dear. He’s too much of a wimp to come in himself.”

   I grunted but held my anger deep inside. “Sandy, now that we’re here, I suppose you could find something to do. Somewhere else, perhaps.”

   She didn’t listen, instead making polite conversation with the receptionist and doing all the talking for me. I took the opportunity to give Pluk some final instructions. He was sat in the centre of the room, inspecting his elbow blades.

   He looked disheartened as I approached. “Why Taku make Pluk blades small?”

   The previous night, before travelling to Cheyenne, I made sure that his blades were filed down, blunted as mine were whenever I travelled. The reason still evaded him. “I told you yesterday, Pluk. We don’t want to cause anything – or anybody – damage.”

   Pluk accepted it, but still gazed mournfully to his blunted blades. “Rug laugh at Pluk when see.”

   I laughed. “Your blades are still much more impressive than his. And besides, they will still cut bark well.”

   “Yes. Pluk hungry.”

   “You will eat soon enough,” I assured, looking over to the clock that sat atop the reception desk. “As soon as this meeting is over, assuming Sandy allows it. Hopefully she will do her own thing, and she will not be around to bother you while you’re doing your duty.”

   Pluk nodded enthusiastically and let his arms drop to his sides. “Pluk is good bodyguard. What should Pluk do?”

   “While we are here, I will be in the meeting room, which is beside the main hall. I’d like you to stay there. There is much more head room, so you won’t have to duck to avoid scraping the ceiling.”

   He smiled, then slowly turned his head up to gaze at the low ceiling. “Why Human trees so small?”

   “They are small people.” I replied.

  

   There was a half-hour wait before I was asked to move to the meeting room. In that time, several elected officials arrived, including the state treasurer and the governor. I chose them as my primary objectives, two who would have a major say in the outcome of the decision on the park. They didn’t greet me as they entered the building, rather glancing to me briefly and then avoiding eye contact. My reputation in my own state was not holding well, and I understood their reluctance to greet me like a good friend in a public space. I was slowly growing into the political world.

   We left Sandy to yell at some ill-fortuned staff who had given her the wrong kind of tonic water and made for the main hall. We had escorts patrol us through the small corridor that separated the rooms, with Pluk taking up most of the space. He whined initially, but he was quickly learning that it was simply a downside to the job.

   The main hall was closed off to the public for the duration of the meeting, and only a small security team and a couple staff members were to be seen. Every word spoken echoed around the room, even whispers. They carried like words spoken on a calm sea, and I could hear the mumbles of amazement and anxiety as Pluk lifted his head out of the corridor. I smiled, and gladly introduced him to his temporary setting.

   “This is where you will stay while I’m in the meeting, Pluk,” I spoke loud enough for all to hear. “I’m sure they’re all very nice people who will make you feel welcome.”

   If all heads weren’t raised before, they were at that point. I doubted my words carried much weight in any Human society, but I could at least subtly tell them to be respectful to my friend, despite his size. Loudly, but subtly.

   “Humans nice,” Pluk grinned, genuinely convinced. “Pluk like to make Human friends.”

   I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good. Now, I won’t be too long, maybe just a couple hours. Your job is just to wait here. If there’s… If I leave early, then things haven’t gone too well. Your presence will be very good for me. If you need anything, Terry will be around to help.”

   He nodded. “Pluk ask Terry.”

   With Pluk given his orders, I collected my notes and files from Terry (one of our security escorts), took a deep breath, and headed for the double-doors at the other end of the hall. Two suited females stood either side.

   “Mr Kelmut?” The blonde on the right with the red tie presumed. “Good morning!”

   “Good morning to you, too.” I replied, putting my anxiety aside for politeness.

   The other female, a brunette with shorter hair, took over as the blonde checked my forms of identification. They had been checked at reception, but such a high-profile meeting meant numerous checks and forms. “Welcome to the WSGC,” Spoke the brunette. “The meeting is just about to start. You are in seat 12. If you need water, there is a dispenser in the far right-hand corner.”

   “Thank you,” I said to them both, taking back my identification. “Do you know if I will be able to leave the room at any time?”

   The question took them by surprise, so much so that they stopped grinning. Just for a second. “Usually, yes,” The blonde started. “But you would need to arrange your departure beforehand. We need to know when you’ll be moving around the building to avoid accidents.”

   I wasn’t expecting any different. “Of course. Thank you.”

   I inhaled and loosened my stance that had quickly begun to tense up. The anxiety was setting in, the deep discomfort that shortened my breathing and caused me to shuffle awkwardly. It always felt so natural in these situations, but I pulled it back within myself and put on the oft-used mask of confidence before pushing open the big violet double-doors.

   It was a typical meeting room. Directly before me was a long, narrow table with seats on either side. The largest of the seats was by itself at the head of the table, its occupant sat facing in my direction. Beyond the table was a huge projection screen with some kind of slide show introductory page shining upon it.

   Everything else about the room was irrelevant. There were paintings and plants scattered here and there, but the only things that mattered were in the centre of the blue-ambience cage. Twelve pairs of small Human eyes turned to face me, already sat down in a political silence. Notebooks open, hands clasped, suited up.

   “So glad you could join us, Mr Kelmut,” Spoke the man that sat at the head of the table. I didn’t recognise him. “Please, take a seat.”

   My eyes scanned the table. I had been designated seat 12, the only seat that would be available. I spotted it right below me, the furthest seat from the head of the table. Quietly, I placed my things and pulled out the seat, moving it towards the door just slightly, so that the person in seat 10 had enough space beside my arm blades. Knowing that they would all still be watching, I kept my gaze towards the table and silently prepared my equipment before the meeting began. I wasn’t going to make the mistake of going in gung-ho again.

   “I believe we’re all here.” I heard. It was the governor’s voice, a white-haired male in his fifties that I had spoken to only briefly before. “So I’d like to say welcome to the WSGC, thank you for taking the time to be here. The reason we’ve brought you here today is to discuss the plans to build a new freeway through Yellowstone and new homes south of Yellowstone Lake.”

   I thought I was hearing it wrong. I looked upwards, thankful that all eyes had averted and paid closer attention to what the governor was saying. He was stood from seat one, just to the right of the man at the head of the table.

   “Now, both I and Mr Garrett organised this meeting because we know that you all have a vested interest in the proceedings and your opinions do matter. I will now pass on to Mr Garrett who will run you through a detail of the plans.”

   Confused, I opened one of my files and removed from it the invitation letter that I had received when I had made my intention of attending known. I scanned it, and found myself three paragraphs down.

   … _The meeting shall comprise of two segments: The first shall be an overview of the national park status of Yellowstone National Park and the proposed plans of an 8-lane highway from Idaho Falls to a yet-undetermined location on the Eastern border of the park by Mr Brock Garrett, head of the operation. The second segment will be a freeform discussion on those plans…_

   Perhaps I had misread it previously, or the discussion on Yellowstone’s reserve status would come in Mr Garrett’s presentation. I set my things aside, adjusted my tremendously uncomfortable tail and listened.

   The hour estimate for the length of the presentation was half an hour short, though it felt much longer. I stopped feeling desperately nervous halfway through, instead gaining a complete and total boredom. I paid full attention and took down notes on everything I thought necessary, but my mind wanted to wander and I tried so hard to resist. Mr Garrett himself was quite monotonous and the presentation itself was bland, colourless and based entirely on economics and funding. It was the sort of talk that Toby had warned that I would have to sit through.

   Summarised, it was the base plans. An eight lane highway that would cut right through the centre of the park, separated in the middle by a small town with 2,000 proposed houses. All other details were irrelevant to me.

   There was not a single mention of the proposal to remove the park’s current status as a reserve. That took me completely by surprise.

   “Are there any immediate questions before we take a five minute break?” Garrett asked, looking to all across the table.

   There were many. I sat myself up straight, cleared my head and opened my mouth.

   And the feminine voice of the state treasurer, Mrs Mitchell, jumped ahead of mine. “You mentioned incentives for potential residents, Mr Garrett. Aside from location, why will people move there if they have the impression that the homes will be as costly as you say they’ll be?”

   I slumped back. I would have felt at least some relief if she had brought up the park’s status and how it wasn’t addressed, but she clearly had other matters to worry about.

   The anger started to bubble within my chest. My teeth clenched and I felt familiar tingles run down my face and neck. My left hand grabbed at the table leg and squeezed. I felt my claw crumpling the thick metal.

   But I reigned it in. I pictured myself elsewhere, in a small field surrounded by trees, coated in tall grass and wild flowers. My people were there, falling asleep as the darkness of night held close the warmth of the camp fire.

   The man in the blue tie in seat 10 was staring at me, one eyebrow raised. My visions left, but took my rage with it. I had calmed down.

   However, I still needed to raise my point. I knew that the anger could potentially return. I didn’t want that to happen. I never did. It seemed so unnatural and uncomfortable to my normal Hork-Bajir self.

   I wanted water. I had for a while, but I couldn’t find the courage to get up, walk to the corner and pour some into the tiny plastic cups that contained barely a drop. But now I was worried about dehydration increasing my stress. I stood up slowly, as quietly as I could, and made my way over to the dispenser.

   People turned to look, but most of them took little notice and went back to paying attention. A couple stared, but I had come to expect that. I was a big bladed naked alien in a room filled with suited Human beings, after all.

   I filled the small cup almost to the brim, keeping my eyes away from the table but listening as Garrett answered the treasurer’s question in effortless detail. Another Human chimed in, an indiscriminate male who wanted to know more about some profit margins. A third then asked where all the money was coming from, but Garrett reassured him that it had all been taken into consideration and the right funds were available.

   My cup was full and I thought of returning to my seat. Then I reconsidered and began to fill a second cup before finally making my way back. I drank the first cup in one gulp as soon as my backside touched the seat fabric. Several deep breaths later, I felt ready to raise the issue. As the latest conversation slowed to a close, I forced my question over the table.

   “Mr Garrett, maybe I missed something or I was informed wrong, but I thought one of the aims of this meeting was to have a discussion on Yellowstone’s status as a reserve. Why are we discussing these plans as if the park’s status being changed was a certainty?”

   There were sniggers, not only from several of those seated but also from Garrett himself. I took a sip from my cup and let my eyes drop their stare to the neutral table.

   “Mr Kelmut,” Garrett finally addressed. “There is no point of discussing it, because it’s happening.”

   “It’s what?!” I blurted, no longer caring for my anxiety and staring him in the face. “What do you mean by that? I thought we’d be discussing that here, today!”

   The female in bushy blonde hair in seat seven responded, “We already discussed it.”

   I felt my grip tightening on the plastic cup. It crumpled beneath my fingers. “And the conclusion you came to…”

   “Parts of Yellowstone will remain protected,” The governor spoke up. “Specific areas of natural interest and tourist destinations, for example. Other areas will lose that status. This will allow us to both build the new housing and the highway, whilst keeping the most treasured areas of the park as natural reserves.”

   “Which parts will my people fall into?” I asked, having already predicted his answer.

   He hesitated and looked to his notes as if there was something meaningful upon them. “You see, Mr Kelmut, the issue is the Hork-Bajir. A natural reserve cannot be so if we let the Hork-Bajir live in it.

   The anger was building. My water had long since escaped the destroyed cup. “So my people will no longer live under the park’s protection?”

   “Your people will be allowed to keep their homes if those homes aren’t in protected areas.”

   “And the rest will be moved,” I summarised. “Crammed into whatever space we have remaining, divided in half by eight lanes of traffic.”

   The room was no longer darkened with sniggering. It was silent. I could see them looking to each other for assurance, like I was an annoyance that they needed to team up against. My breathing rate was increasing, and I felt shivers running up and down my body.

   “Your people will still have the same protections as before,” The governor finally said. “We are not removing your basic rights.”

   I ignored his pitiful compromises. “Why was I not present during that discussion?” I demanded. “The Alien Rights Act states that Hork-Bajir representation should be present when discussing these matters!”

   “Governor Hamee was sent invitations,” The governor argued. “As long as we invited representation, we are not doing anything illegal.”

   I shook my head and then held it in my water-soaked hand. “And when did you send her the invites? When did you decide to host this second meeting? The day she disappeared?! Of course, I understand it so clearly now! The opposition is gone so you rush to your desired decision.”

   “That’s simply not true…” The treasurer replied with little conviction.

   “I believe it is,” I asserted. “Why did you not send me an invite? I have taken on Toby’s responsibilities during her absence. I want that discussion to take place again, and this time I want to be there. I am the representative of my people now!”

   “I pity them.” The blonde-haired female mocked.

   A male spoke up after her from seat nine, further rubbing salt into the wounds. “Mr Kelmut, you’ve proven in front of the whole world that you aren’t fit to represent your people. The only reason you were brought here today is because of Toby’s absence and your constant nagging to be involved. I’ll be honest, Toby isn’t much different, but at least she keeps her hatred of Humans to herself.”

   I was thrown off by how quickly the room had turned on me. Realising that I was in a dangerous place, I closed my eyes and desperately tried to reign in my temper. I could sense that it was almost overflowing.

   “Calm down, Mr Kelmut,” I heard the governor say. “We aren’t trying to make you angry.”

   “You politicians are good at lying,” I managed to breath out. “Maybe that’s why I’m not very good at it. But being bad at my job does not mean that you can exclude me from discussions that I should rightfully attend. In Toby’s absence, _I_ am the acting Hork-Bajir governor, and as the Hork-Bajir governor I demand that we rearrange the discussions and that I am in attendance.”

   “It’s too late.”

   It wasn’t too late. He was lying. I couldn’t stand it anymore, as I heard them mumbling to themselves before slowly moving onto the next topic. They left me sat there, my head now in my hands, completely deflated by what had happened.

   I didn’t ask for permission to leave. Interrupting their next discussion, I noisily pushed away my seat, grabbed my things and shot them a betrayed glare. They looked back, and then continued.

   Pushing open the doors, I could barely find the strength the lift my head. It drooped forward, forcing my eyes to take in the cold marbled flooring.

   And then I felt hands on my shoulders. Far too big for Human hands. Following that, I felt head blades contact mine and I smiled.

   At least I had made one good decision.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

   I found myself in a deep state of worry after the unexpectedly short meeting. I had arrived with glorious ambitions of standing my ground, re-establishing my reputation and saving my people’s home. Instead, I had accomplished nothing other than further distancing myself from the most powerful people in the home state. My mind would not let it go. Not even Pluk’s curious and childish questions about his new environment would remove the dreaded thoughts.

   “Why do Humans make Human trees with no sky?” He pondered, gazing questioningly up at our hotel room ceiling, sat on the carpet as Sandy filed down his left wrist blade. Even sat on the floor, the giant Pluk struggled not to scrape that ceiling.

   I paused, taking the moment to finish reading yet another terrible email on my tired old laptop. In my place, Sandy answered in her typical blunt and condescending way.

   “So we don’t get cold and wet,” She scraped. “It rains, sometimes, you know.”

   Pluk considered, then pointed a finger to a large potted plant in the corner of the room. “Plant needs water.”

   Sandy looked over to me like I should be amazed at his stupidity. I tried not to get involved.

   “We give it water from a tap!” She brutally explained.

   “But…” Pluk retorted. “Taku Kelmut say water is bad!”

   Sandy, finally lowering her volume slightly, replied, “For you, it is. It’s good for the plants.”

   “Taku Kelmut drink water from tap,” Pluk recalled. “Taku Kelmut go sick.”

   “That’s because he was being stupid.”

   I huffed and pushed my laptop backwards on the desk, relieved to take even the shortest break from the cruel glowing screen. “Yes, I was stupid. It was my first time in a hotel. I learned from that mistake, just as you no doubt learned from yours.”

   Pluk flinched, grunted as Sandy’s lack of attentiveness caused her to file too close to his skin.

   “Well, hold still!” She chastised. “I don’t want to be skewered, you know!”

   He snorted and looked to me with a pitiable pout. She had been ordering him around all day, and though he loved to take in all the sight and sounds of the big Human habitat, it was always intruded on.

   “I think Pluk has been groomed enough,” I suggested to Sandy. “We all need rest. It’s been a long day.”

   Sandy’s face was one of great irritation when she turned. “I’ve only got a bit more to do! You can wait.”

   “I will not wait!” I rebounded. “You may leave for the evening and we shall rest!”

   This time, she took the hint. Shaking her head and mumbling something probably obscene, she retracted her equipment from Pluk’s arms, packed it away and reluctantly wished us a goodnight. My response was equally unenthusiastic.

   Pluk solemnly investigated his newly-filed wrist blades, rubbing a finger where one once grew to a sharp point. “Sandy make Pluk blades not sharp…”

   I sighed and pulled my laptop closer again, now better able to carry on with my work. “We’ve gone over this before. While you’re in the Human environment, you must have your blades blunted. You’ll get used to it.”

   Pluk attempted to get up, but as his head blades bounced off the ceiling, he reconsidered and sat back down, leaning against the seat of the brown leather sofa. “Taku Kelmut say that Human friend is nice.”

   “Yes, I did…” I said back, tapping my claws on the tiny keyboard, eyes fully focused on the difficult email before me. “I said that when Clarissa was my supervisor. I never said it about Sandy.”

   “Where Clarissa go?”

   I stopped tapping on the keys, using my will instead to combat the regret that suddenly encroached. “She doesn’t work for us anymore. That was one of my mistakes.”

   He smiled as he made certain conclusions in his head. “Taku Kelmut learn from mistake! Not make the same mistake.”

   His optimism was just infectious enough to bring a smile from me. “I won’t. It was yet another example of my stupidity that I regret deeply.”

   Pluk chuckled, almost knocking his head on the ceiling again. “Taku Kelmut is smartest Hork-Bajir that Pluk Mett know.”

   I tapped away again at the keyboard briefly, but after just three words my motivation left me. I shut the laptop and sunk down onto the desk. “Then you don’t know many Hork-Bajir.”

   “Pluk know lots of Hork-Bajir.” He countered, not quite grasping my point.

   I got up slowly from my desk and stretched my aching tail. Like with most places, the seating in my hotel room was not suited to my form. From there I struggled over to the sofa and dropped myself onto it, beside Pluk. “Things haven’t gone as planned, Pluk. I… just don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

   He cocked his head in a struggle to understand. “What meaning?”

   “It means that… Oh, how do I explain this?” I placed a hand to my face and sighed, the content of all those complicated emails flowing through my head. There was no such thing as simplicity. “I am bad at what I do. I don’t do it very well.”

   Even in such terms, Pluk looked baffled. “Taku Kelmut talk to Humans. Talk well!”

   “Yes. I… I do more than just talk to them, Pluk. I am like Toby now. I am the one to make sure that no Human hurts a Hork-Bajir. I am the shield, but I am flimsy and cracked. I am not a very good shield.”

   It pained me deeply to see him look forward, still achingly trying to piece together the meanings that I was putting to him. “Taku Kelmut is shield… Humans hurt Taku?”

   “No!” I growled, hunching forward so that I could look at him more directly. “I protect you from the things they do with my words. It’s… I’m not literally shielding with my body, I’m…”

   I could tell by the saddened expression that the concept of politics was beyond his grasp. I needed to give up before it drove me insane. I felt the bubbling of stress within my chest again.

   “Pluk not understand.” He whimpered.

   “I know,” I panted, pulling myself back into my relaxed position. “I’m sorry, Pluk. There is something wrong with me and sometimes I just can’t control it. I’m sorry.”

   He turned to face his body towards me. “Pluk know. Taku different. Not _different_ different. Different.”

   I laughed as I felt a tear on my cheek. “That makes things so clear,” I joked, rubbing the fluid from the base of my snout. “But, I know. I know that I have not adapted to this world. Toby warned me so long ago, but I didn’t care. I was naïve, stupid. I couldn’t see what this life would be like.”

   Pluk, again, could not understand my predicament. However, he could see how it affected me, and he put on a brave face. “Pluk here for Taku,” He assured. “But Pluk think Taku do good. Taku knows what is best.”

   I smiled to him, thankful for his support. “Thank you, Pluk,” I said. “I know it is hard, but right now I am the only one who can do it. There is nobody else. Toby has gone. Cassie has gone. Every politician in the local area has interests that would impede my people. I just don’t know how to do it.”

   Knowing he was out of his depths, Pluk did not feign to consider a decent solution. He bowed his head, but repeated, “Pluk always here for Taku Kelmut. Taku smart. Pluk is not. But Pluk help.”

   He then arched his head back so that his head blades came close. I leaned forward and made mine connect with his. “There will be a way,” I told him. “The United States of America is formed on democratic principles.”

   As expected, Pluk turned and looked for a clearer explanation.

   I clarified, “The people of America can decide things together. As a whole. It’s not totally down to a few powerful individuals. They play a big part, I guess, but Toby and Cassie always told me that the Human masses do have a big say. If many Humans decide that they don’t want something, then the people in power may change their mind.”

   Pluk attempted to simplify it further. “If Human folk want what Taku Kelmut wants, Taku get what he wants?”

   “Yes,” I agreed. “It is something that Toby has told me for quite some time. It’s something called democracy. The normal people get a say in what happens. The only problem is that I enraged the entire country when I decided to get so angry in a television interview. Everyone hates me, and that’s probably what I deserve. Nobody will listen to the alien that hates the Human race.”

   Pluk, in the usual Hork-Bajir ignorance, came up with the effortless solution. “Make Humans not hate Taku Kelmut!”

   “I wish it were that easy, Pluk,” I chuckled, turning my snout to the ceiling. “But Humans aren’t as easy to appease as Hork-Bajir. Humans are much more complicated. If I please one, I offend another. If I offend one, I offend them all. I cannot win such a battle.”

   “Taku try.” Pluk urged. I appreciated his determination to help hugely, so much so that I decided to give in. At least in word. I still felt internally decimated.

   “I’ll try,” I assured him. “We’re here for a few more days now, so we might as well make it worthwhile. However, I must learn to control my anger.”

   Pluk cocked his head. “How Taku do that?”

   “If I knew, I would already have done it,” I told him. “I’ll find a way. Tomorrow, we’ll do some exploring. I’ll take you to see a Human park, try to get you talking to some of them. If I’m going to sway public opinion, let them know what is really going on, then maybe I’ll have a better chance of reversing the decision on Yellowstone.”

   He grinned widely. “Pluk like talking to Humans. Humans talk lots, but Pluk like it!”

   “Good! After that, I’ll try to arrange some interviews. Maybe an advertisement. I’ll get word to the Humans about what this decision would mean for our people. In my position as acting governor, I should have enough power behind me to get at least something.”

   Pluk stared blankly. However, what I said was more to myself than to him. It lifted my spirits just a little bit. It could be done.

   “Pluk tired,” He said, yawning. “Sleep now.”

   I smiled to him. The strange and unusual concepts were enough to make anybody’s brain weary. “Okay. I will do some more work and then I’ll sleep, too.”

   He stretched his limbs, scratching a head blade on the ceiling and then hunched forward to crawl to his sleeping area. He called goodnight, and I repeated it back. Left alone, I huffed to myself, wondering what work I should have been getting on with. There was so much of it. I glanced at a stack of papers on my work desk, then at the laptop. Then I looked to the phone, stood on its receiver on the coffee table.

   It was worth a try. I got up and took a small folder from my work desk. It read in large letters “Toby’s Contacts.”

   I flicked through the folder that she had left for me, through hundreds of numbers spread over countless pages. There were the numbers of governors, lawyers, accountants, businesses. All the important people who Toby needed to keep in contact with in order to do her duty effectively.

   I found Cassie’s number and found myself staring at it. The next page over, I found who I had been looking for. The Wyoming Governor’s number was etched in red ink. I reached forward and took the phone from the receiver, carefully dialling the correct numbers.

   It didn’t take long for the person on the other end to pick up. By then I had composed myself.

   “Yes?” Asked the Governor of Wyoming. He sounded terribly frustrated.

   “Governor,” I said. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

   He paused. “Governor Hamee?”

   “No. This is Taku Kelmut.”

   “Oh. How did you get my number?”

   I could sense that he did not see me as an important caller. “When Toby passed her duties onto me, she also gave me her phonebook. As the acting Hork-Bajir governor, I feel that it’s my duty to continue her work and also to act as she would. Right now, I believe she would be doing just as I’m doing now.”

   “You aren’t the governor.” He replied bluntly.

   “Not technically…” I grumbled. “I wanted to ask you again to reconsider this decision. At least hold another meeting that I, representing the Hork-Bajir people, can attend. I hope that you’d understand why I request this.”

   “I do. However, as I’ve explained, Mr Kelmut,” He spoke, putting a great emphasis on _mister_. “You were not invited to the original meeting. Toby was, and she didn’t turn up. I am not going to bend over backwards just so you can throw your opinion in when it won’t make the slightest bit of difference.”

   I snorted down the phone. “You realise that I shall oppose this decision with all the power I can afford?”

   “You have no power. You can’t threaten me Mr Kelmut. You have no political sway, no money, no allies, and quite frankly your reputation among the entire country is appalling.”

   “That’s all true. I can change that.”

   I heard him sniggering quietly to himself. “Well, I wish you good luck with that. I do sincerely. However, it won’t happen, and you won’t get any help from me. Just a little advice for you: The media is a powerful thing, Mr Kelmut. Remember that. Cross me, and I will destroy you. Good day.”

   He hung up. Part of me expected to feel the rage building in my chest, but I already accepted before I made the call that he wouldn’t change his mind. I just needed to know my opposition.

   I understood his threat perfectly well. And he was correct. Everything was on his side, and with just one or two phone calls he could start a whole smear campaign based on my past television actions.

   It was an uphill battle, for sure. It was almost a vertical battle, if such existed.

   But I was right at the bottom already. What could I possibly lose?


	37. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

   I found myself in a deep state of worry after the unexpectedly short meeting. I had arrived with glorious ambitions of standing my ground, re-establishing my reputation and saving my people’s home. Instead, I had accomplished nothing other than further distancing myself from the most powerful people in the home state. My mind would not let it go. Not even Pluk’s curious and childish questions about his new environment would remove the dreaded thoughts.

   “Why do Humans make Human trees with no sky?” He pondered, gazing questioningly up at our hotel room ceiling, sat on the carpet as Sandy filed down his left wrist blade. Even sat on the floor, the giant Pluk struggled not to scrape that ceiling.

   I paused, taking the moment to finish reading yet another terrible email on my tired old laptop. In my place, Sandy answered in her typical blunt and condescending way.

   “So we don’t get cold and wet,” She scraped. “It rains, sometimes, you know.”

   Pluk considered, then pointed a finger to a large potted plant in the corner of the room. “Plant needs water.”

   Sandy looked over to me like I should be amazed at his stupidity. I tried not to get involved.

   “We give it water from a tap!” She brutally explained.

   “But…” Pluk retorted. “Taku Kelmut say water is bad!”

   Sandy, finally lowering her volume slightly, replied, “For you, it is. It’s good for the plants.”

   “Taku Kelmut drink water from tap,” Pluk recalled. “Taku Kelmut go sick.”

   “That’s because he was being stupid.”

   I huffed and pushed my laptop backwards on the desk, relieved to take even the shortest break from the cruel glowing screen. “Yes, I was stupid. It was my first time in a hotel. I learned from that mistake, just as you no doubt learned from yours.”

   Pluk flinched, grunted as Sandy’s lack of attentiveness caused her to file too close to his skin.

   “Well, hold still!” She chastised. “I don’t want to be skewered, you know!”

   He snorted and looked to me with a pitiable pout. She had been ordering him around all day, and though he loved to take in all the sight and sounds of the big Human habitat, it was always intruded on.

   “I think Pluk has been groomed enough,” I suggested to Sandy. “We all need rest. It’s been a long day.”

   Sandy’s face was one of great irritation when she turned. “I’ve only got a bit more to do! You can wait.”

   “I will not wait!” I rebounded. “You may leave for the evening and we shall rest!”

   This time, she took the hint. Shaking her head and mumbling something probably obscene, she retracted her equipment from Pluk’s arms, packed it away and reluctantly wished us a goodnight. My response was equally unenthusiastic.

   Pluk solemnly investigated his newly-filed wrist blades, rubbing a finger where one once grew to a sharp point. “Sandy make Pluk blades not sharp…”

   I sighed and pulled my laptop closer again, now better able to carry on with my work. “We’ve gone over this before. While you’re in the Human environment, you must have your blades blunted. You’ll get used to it.”

   Pluk attempted to get up, but as his head blades bounced off the ceiling, he reconsidered and sat back down, leaning against the seat of the brown leather sofa. “Taku Kelmut say that Human friend is nice.”

   “Yes, I did…” I said back, tapping my claws on the tiny keyboard, eyes fully focused on the difficult email before me. “I said that when Clarissa was my supervisor. I never said it about Sandy.”

   “Where Clarissa go?”

   I stopped tapping on the keys, using my will instead to combat the regret that suddenly encroached. “She doesn’t work for us anymore. That was one of my mistakes.”

   He smiled as he made certain conclusions in his head. “Taku Kelmut learn from mistake! Not make the same mistake.”

   His optimism was just infectious enough to bring a smile from me. “I won’t. It was yet another example of my stupidity that I regret deeply.”

   Pluk chuckled, almost knocking his head on the ceiling again. “Taku Kelmut is smartest Hork-Bajir that Pluk Mett know.”

   I tapped away again at the keyboard briefly, but after just three words my motivation left me. I shut the laptop and sunk down onto the desk. “Then you don’t know many Hork-Bajir.”

   “Pluk know lots of Hork-Bajir.” He countered, not quite grasping my point.

   I got up slowly from my desk and stretched my aching tail. Like with most places, the seating in my hotel room was not suited to my form. From there I struggled over to the sofa and dropped myself onto it, beside Pluk. “Things haven’t gone as planned, Pluk. I… just don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

   He cocked his head in a struggle to understand. “What meaning?”

   “It means that… Oh, how do I explain this?” I placed a hand to my face and sighed, the content of all those complicated emails flowing through my head. There was no such thing as simplicity. “I am bad at what I do. I don’t do it very well.”

   Even in such terms, Pluk looked baffled. “Taku Kelmut talk to Humans. Talk well!”

   “Yes. I… I do more than just talk to them, Pluk. I am like Toby now. I am the one to make sure that no Human hurts a Hork-Bajir. I am the shield, but I am flimsy and cracked. I am not a very good shield.”

   It pained me deeply to see him look forward, still achingly trying to piece together the meanings that I was putting to him. “Taku Kelmut is shield… Humans hurt Taku?”

   “No!” I growled, hunching forward so that I could look at him more directly. “I protect you from the things they do with my words. It’s… I’m not literally shielding with my body, I’m…”

   I could tell by the saddened expression that the concept of politics was beyond his grasp. I needed to give up before it drove me insane. I felt the bubbling of stress within my chest again.

   “Pluk not understand.” He whimpered.

   “I know,” I panted, pulling myself back into my relaxed position. “I’m sorry, Pluk. There is something wrong with me and sometimes I just can’t control it. I’m sorry.”

   He turned to face his body towards me. “Pluk know. Taku different. Not _different_ different. Different.”

   I laughed as I felt a tear on my cheek. “That makes things so clear,” I joked, rubbing the fluid from the base of my snout. “But, I know. I know that I have not adapted to this world. Toby warned me so long ago, but I didn’t care. I was naïve, stupid. I couldn’t see what this life would be like.”

   Pluk, again, could not understand my predicament. However, he could see how it affected me, and he put on a brave face. “Pluk here for Taku,” He assured. “But Pluk think Taku do good. Taku knows what is best.”

   I smiled to him, thankful for his support. “Thank you, Pluk,” I said. “I know it is hard, but right now I am the only one who can do it. There is nobody else. Toby has gone. Cassie has gone. Every politician in the local area has interests that would impede my people. I just don’t know how to do it.”

   Knowing he was out of his depths, Pluk did not feign to consider a decent solution. He bowed his head, but repeated, “Pluk always here for Taku Kelmut. Taku smart. Pluk is not. But Pluk help.”

   He then arched his head back so that his head blades came close. I leaned forward and made mine connect with his. “There will be a way,” I told him. “The United States of America is formed on democratic principles.”

   As expected, Pluk turned and looked for a clearer explanation.

   I clarified, “The people of America can decide things together. As a whole. It’s not totally down to a few powerful individuals. They play a big part, I guess, but Toby and Cassie always told me that the Human masses do have a big say. If many Humans decide that they don’t want something, then the people in power may change their mind.”

   Pluk attempted to simplify it further. “If Human folk want what Taku Kelmut wants, Taku get what he wants?”

   “Yes,” I agreed. “It is something that Toby has told me for quite some time. It’s something called democracy. The normal people get a say in what happens. The only problem is that I enraged the entire country when I decided to get so angry in a television interview. Everyone hates me, and that’s probably what I deserve. Nobody will listen to the alien that hates the Human race.”

   Pluk, in the usual Hork-Bajir ignorance, came up with the effortless solution. “Make Humans not hate Taku Kelmut!”

   “I wish it were that easy, Pluk,” I chuckled, turning my snout to the ceiling. “But Humans aren’t as easy to appease as Hork-Bajir. Humans are much more complicated. If I please one, I offend another. If I offend one, I offend them all. I cannot win such a battle.”

   “Taku try.” Pluk urged. I appreciated his determination to help hugely, so much so that I decided to give in. At least in word. I still felt internally decimated.

   “I’ll try,” I assured him. “We’re here for a few more days now, so we might as well make it worthwhile. However, I must learn to control my anger.”

   Pluk cocked his head. “How Taku do that?”

   “If I knew, I would already have done it,” I told him. “I’ll find a way. Tomorrow, we’ll do some exploring. I’ll take you to see a Human park, try to get you talking to some of them. If I’m going to sway public opinion, let them know what is really going on, then maybe I’ll have a better chance of reversing the decision on Yellowstone.”

   He grinned widely. “Pluk like talking to Humans. Humans talk lots, but Pluk like it!”

   “Good! After that, I’ll try to arrange some interviews. Maybe an advertisement. I’ll get word to the Humans about what this decision would mean for our people. In my position as acting governor, I should have enough power behind me to get at least something.”

   Pluk stared blankly. However, what I said was more to myself than to him. It lifted my spirits just a little bit. It could be done.

   “Pluk tired,” He said, yawning. “Sleep now.”

   I smiled to him. The strange and unusual concepts were enough to make anybody’s brain weary. “Okay. I will do some more work and then I’ll sleep, too.”

   He stretched his limbs, scratching a head blade on the ceiling and then hunched forward to crawl to his sleeping area. He called goodnight, and I repeated it back. Left alone, I huffed to myself, wondering what work I should have been getting on with. There was so much of it. I glanced at a stack of papers on my work desk, then at the laptop. Then I looked to the phone, stood on its receiver on the coffee table.

   It was worth a try. I got up and took a small folder from my work desk. It read in large letters “Toby’s Contacts.”

   I flicked through the folder that she had left for me, through hundreds of numbers spread over countless pages. There were the numbers of governors, lawyers, accountants, businesses. All the important people who Toby needed to keep in contact with in order to do her duty effectively.

   I found Cassie’s number and found myself staring at it. The next page over, I found who I had been looking for. The Wyoming Governor’s number was etched in red ink. I reached forward and took the phone from the receiver, carefully dialling the correct numbers.

   It didn’t take long for the person on the other end to pick up. By then I had composed myself.

   “Yes?” Asked the Governor of Wyoming. He sounded terribly frustrated.

   “Governor,” I said. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

   He paused. “Governor Hamee?”

   “No. This is Taku Kelmut.”

   “Oh. How did you get my number?”

   I could sense that he did not see me as an important caller. “When Toby passed her duties onto me, she also gave me her phonebook. As the acting Hork-Bajir governor, I feel that it’s my duty to continue her work and also to act as she would. Right now, I believe she would be doing just as I’m doing now.”

   “You aren’t the governor.” He replied bluntly.

   “Not technically…” I grumbled. “I wanted to ask you again to reconsider this decision. At least hold another meeting that I, representing the Hork-Bajir people, can attend. I hope that you’d understand why I request this.”

   “I do. However, as I’ve explained, Mr Kelmut,” He spoke, putting a great emphasis on _mister_. “You were not invited to the original meeting. Toby was, and she didn’t turn up. I am not going to bend over backwards just so you can throw your opinion in when it won’t make the slightest bit of difference.”

   I snorted down the phone. “You realise that I shall oppose this decision with all the power I can afford?”

   “You have no power. You can’t threaten me Mr Kelmut. You have no political sway, no money, no allies, and quite frankly your reputation among the entire country is appalling.”

   “That’s all true. I can change that.”

   I heard him sniggering quietly to himself. “Well, I wish you good luck with that. I do sincerely. However, it won’t happen, and you won’t get any help from me. Just a little advice for you: The media is a powerful thing, Mr Kelmut. Remember that. Cross me, and I will destroy you. Good day.”

   He hung up. Part of me expected to feel the rage building in my chest, but I already accepted before I made the call that he wouldn’t change his mind. I just needed to know my opposition.

   I understood his threat perfectly well. And he was correct. Everything was on his side, and with just one or two phone calls he could start a whole smear campaign based on my past television actions.

   It was an uphill battle, for sure. It was almost a vertical battle, if such existed.

   But I was right at the bottom already. What could I possibly lose?


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

   I had to cancel everything that I had planned in Cheyenne. Not that there was much to cancel, and frankly I was very pleased to leave. I only wished that the circumstances were different.

   Though my soul wished to dwell on the hatred for myself and my hideously consequential mistake, duty maintained that I stand by my friend’s side as he spent a night in the local hospital, tending to his needs and being the one person around that he knew. Pluk was given a single bed in ICU, and the staff worked through most of the night making sure that his condition would not decline. They examined his body and concluded that his legs had been broken in multiple locations, his pelvis had been crushed, and he had broken his back and five ribs. Aside, most of his body was bruised, deeply purple where the blood collected.

   And despite all of that, his spirits remained high. My people never ceased to amaze me. Even through the pain, the numbness throughout much of his body, he was still so alive and so optimistic.

   I think he was mostly pleased that I had pushed aside my anger. Of course, my emotions were not the priority, but that’s how he saw it. To me, it was incredibly disturbing.

   Once the hospital had gotten him into a stable condition, arrangements were made for him to be transported back to the Hork-Bajir medical centre in Yellowstone. There, he would be supervised by doctors specially trained to deal with my people and their unfortunate injuries and illnesses. With nothing left for me in Cheyenne, I was more than willing to travel with Pluk to his more suitable housing arrangements. The beds in the Human hospital were far from suitable, considering his size and his injuries.

   He was heavily bandaged, and he would remain so for some time. Even when we returned home, tired and weary, I could not go ten minutes without dishing my sincerest apologies to him. I felt utterly awful. I was a terrible person for what I had done to my friend, but he would shrug it off and insist that I was not to blame.

   After a day spent by his side in his new, larger bed, I left for home. Usually, the return would offer me great relief. I would catch the scent of grass and trees in my nostrils and feel the cosy ground beneath my aching toes. The sounds of the birds and the rustling leaves would kiss my ears. But this time, those delicacies could not provide me with comfort. Every time I vowed to stop making mistakes, I would return with a new collection under my metaphorical belt, and this time the guilt and the shame were too much to bear. I felt truly alone, even as I scraped my heels back into Hork-Bajir territory.

   Hours later, I reached home. I re-introduced myself to my family, but I vanished just before they could question why I seemed so troubled. They would not find me in my hut, either, because I had gone a mile or so past into an isolated patch of trees that hadn’t been touched for a while. There, I would grieve for as long as I had to.

   My body was clutched around a large pine, my limbs wrapped around the trunk, my head rested to its surface. I held it like a _kawatnoj_ would hold its mother, not wanting to let go and craving protection from the cold outside world.

   A while passed, my mind too busy within itself to estimate how long. All I knew was that I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten since the morning of the meeting, and my stomach was now overpowering my distress. Shuffling to the left, I rose up my right arm and sliced my blades into the tough wood. Some snow dropped from the canopy around me, disturbed by my movement.

   The bark was bitter, but I chewed on it slowly, savouring the sensation. Its sweet sappy underside threatened briefly to turn away my negative emotions, but the realisation that I could potentially rid myself of it only brought it back stronger than ever. I ate a fraction of my cutting, then let the rest drop from my snout and into the snow far below.

   I felt that nothing could cure my head of the horrible thoughts that swirled through. I thought of myself as a failure, a disaster. Not only that, but I began to feel that I was a fundamentally bad person. For that I blamed my cursed brain, unfortunate to be given the unusual mind of a seer. I never imagined that it could be so difficult, so heart-breaking when everything around me became all too much.

   A Hork-Bajir does not belong in the Human world. They are too different, too contrasting. Being the bridge between would stretch me to my death. I had to give it up. Toby would understand, she would see my pain. I could live the rest of my life as just another innocent, blissfully ignorant Hork-Bajir and I would be infinitely happier.

   Until the Humans began to exploit us without restriction. Taking advantage as we sat without a single line of defence.

   Did I love my people enough to sacrifice my life and happiness for their well-being? Could I even accomplish that if I did?

   “Taku?”

  The sudden utterance of my name jolted me and I gripped my blades hard against the tree. I swivelled my head around to find who had interrupted me. Ruga was stood in the next tree over, cocking his head to the side as he looked at me with deep concern.

   “Why Taku Kelmut come to these trees?”

   I sighed and turned my head back to rest it on my tree’s trunk. “Because I want to be alone.”

   I heard him shuffling to a more comfortable position in his tree. He wasn’t going to take the hint. “Taku home. Come to help make campfire!”

   “No, thank you, Ruga,” I grumbled. “I wish to be alone for a while.”

   To his credit, he wasn’t going to give up easily. “Ruga miss Taku. Taku come with Ruga.”

   “No, Ruga! Please, leave me here alone!”

   “Taku sad,” He concluded. “Fire will make Taku feel better. Fire will make cold go away.”

   I gripped tighter to my trunk, trying desperately not to get angry with my friend. “Listen, Ruga. I do not want to go! Yes, I am sad, but what I need to do now is spend some time alone. I need to think about things for a while!”

   He fell silent for a moment, and then whimpered pathetically, “Ruga is sad now…”

   “Ugh…” I grumbled, turning my head back around, loosening my grip on the tree. “How did you find me, anyway? I didn’t think anybody would find me.”

   He managed a smile as he successfully regained my full attention. “Mago Kelmut say that Taku is home. Say that Taku disappear, run north. So Ruga come to find Taku and Pluk. Where is Pluk?”

   “Pluk will not return home for some time,” I stated with minimal emotional devotion. “And he won’t walk his way back, either.”

   Ruga stared, trying to figure out what that meant. In the end, he gave up. “What Taku mean?”

   “He is in the hospital because he has broken most of the bones in his lower body. I ran out over a road and he followed me. Because of my stupid, stupid mistake, he may never walk again.”

   He certainly understood that, and yet he didn’t know how to respond. He made a low groaning noise instead, then he bowed his head as the reality of the situation made itself know. “Pluk come back?”

   “Yes. Eventually,” I muttered. “And he was as forgiving as I’ve come to expect. Not a single piece of him resents me for my foolishness. Not a drop of his blood boils at the mention of my name, even so soon after the accident. And he knows perfectly well how it happened! He knew that it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me!”

   Ruga seemed to let my self-detesting rant blow over him as if it was an internal monologue that only I could hear. In the corner of my eye, I saw him smile. “Pluk come back. Better!”

   My jaw clenched. He simply didn’t get it, and it really began to frustrate me. I really didn’t want to hurt my friend, but the more he continued with his naïve, childish optimism, the more I began to break from my restraints. He had to go.

   “Ruga…” I spoke behind my gritting teeth. “Go. You don’t understand and you should leave.”

   But he wouldn’t. “Taku come with Ruga. Sit by campfire. It will make Taku happy!”

   “No, it will not, Ruga!” I blasted, turning my body and stamping a foot on my supporting branch. “I wish I had the same mind as you! I really do! I wish that I could see the bright side of every single little situation.” I removed myself fully from the trunk and faced him directly, coming closer as he shrunk before me, confused and stunned. “I could just smile and sing and promise myself that everything will be just fine!” I mocked, grinning widely at him with chattering teeth. “Just like you do! Just like Pluk did when the van crushed his lower body! Yes, Ruga, I wish I could see that bright side! I could just forget all the failures and the fact that I have lost all respect among those who control this world that we live in!”

   He was frozen solid, gawking up to me with big, bemused eyes. “Taku…”

   “Do you realise how much I wish to be like you, Ruga?” I growled. “I would spend all day eating bark, sleeping in my tree and telling stories over campfires. Oh, how I would love that! But no, I don’t have that, do I? I’m going to be the one to make sure that you don’t die just like Relk did. The only one! You think Humans care about us more than they care about their money and their elections? You think they wouldn’t sacrifice a Hork-Bajir’s happiness for a tourist’s dollar? While you all sit on your wicker platforms in your pitiful ignorance, the Humans plan to coat hundreds of miles of our home in cement and asphalt! But maybe you’ll see the bright side in that, too,” I considered abrasively. “And maybe my people saw the bright side when Yeerk slugs invaded their brains and dragged them to the battlefields to be slaughtered like pawns on a chessboard! Would you see the optimism in that, Ruga?! Come on, smile!”

   He didn’t smile. He was already curling into a ball, his jaw quivering.

   And then I realised that I was yelling at Ruga. Ruga, my friend. Ruga the Hork-Bajir. The blur that had veiled my eyes fell away and my legs trembled. I stumbled, clutched tighter to my branch and gasped with deep remorse. Had I just lost myself entirely? It felt almost like a distant dream at that point, but the image of the scared Hork-Bajir before my awoken eyes remained. My head span, dizzy with the huge swing in my state of mind and I had to balance myself firmly with all limbs.

   I couldn’t lose Ruga. I wouldn’t let myself push him away, too. Pushing away a Human friend was terrible, but pushing away one of my own people was like removing a warm blanket during the coldest, stormiest night.

   “Oh, Ruga,” I choked, my whole form shivering as I came to the full terms of what had just happened. “I didn’t mean all that. Truly, I didn’t! I’m so sorry.”

   He was silent. I wouldn’t expect much more from him after such a baffling series of outbursts. What I expected most was for him to scurry away, frightened by the creature that had replaced his friend. Instead, he stayed, either dutifully or due to an inability to move.

   I growled abruptly. “This is why I told you to leave! I’m not who I was, Ruga,” I stammered, pushing myself up from my submissive position and feeling the rage once again defeat the weak part of me. This time, I managed to hold it. “I need my time alone. There is something wrong with me and I don’t know how to control it. Please, leave before it happens again.”

   Finally, he was able to break his silence. “No. Taku sad. Ruga help Taku!”

   And again I switched. I felt my face scrunch up, initially trying to hold back the tears but giving away with little resistance. I collapsed on my branch, coming to rest in a blubbering heap before him, my head buried in my arms. I couldn’t utter a word through my sorrowful gasps.

   Ruga allowed it for a while, perhaps suspecting another swing in mood. Just as I thought that he had gone, I felt the branch shudder as he approached. “Why is Taku sad?” He asked.

   I lifted my head from my arms and found him directly in front. Unbundling myself, I was thankful to start feeling calmer in the presence of someone who didn’t care about a few juggernaut mood swings. “I don’t want to be different, Ruga,” I sulked. “All it’s done is put expectations on me that I cannot fulfil. I have failed at every step. Not only that, but everybody close to me has dropped away like flies. I’m alone whenever I leave the park.”

   “Ruga come.” He suggested naively.

   I glowered at him. “That’s just what I did with Pluk. Now he’s in the hospital. The only Hork-Bajir who can help me outside of Yellowstone abandoned me and left me with all of her paperwork. So much paperwork…”

   “Does Taku have Human friend?” He asked.

   “I did. But I pushed her away with the rest of the Human race. I wish that I hadn’t, because I think she really cared.”

   He thought about the situation. “Taku say sorry to Human.”

   “Perhaps,” I sighed. “But it could make no difference. The state government is trying to build a big road over Yellowstone. They want to change Yellowstone so that it is not protected as it is now. I don’t know who can stop that now.”

   The concepts were probably flying over his head, but to his credit, he did not let it deter from his attempts at comforting. “Taku is _different_ , like Toby Hamee. Toby Hamee save Hork-Bajir, so Taku Kelmut save Hork-Bajir, too.”

   I chuckled, finding the comparison to be utterly absurd. “It’s not that easy. I wish it was. I wish that I could have the same influence as she did. No matter what she could say, she would always be Toby Hamee: Saviour of the Hork-Bajir. And me? I’m the nobody alien that hates the whole Human race.”

   Ruga sat back on his branch and huffed impatiently, whacking his tail against the branch behind him. He was smiling, though, in jest. “Taku never this grumpy before. Maybe Taku grumpy because not beat Ruga in race for many moons!”

   It was a tactic that I didn’t expect, but his sudden burst of energy woke me from my admittedly self-loathing cocoon. “I haven’t had the chance. I would win, though.”

   He grinned widely, pleased that he could receive a positive reaction from me. “Taku Kelmut happier if he play race with Ruga!”

   “I will, Ruga,” I assured him with sincerity. “I would like a few minutes alone, but then I will come find you.”

   He grunted at my insistence. “Fine. Taku come, though. Taku play the game.”

   And with that, Ruga left, bouncing gleefully through the trees and back towards our home stretch. I was alone again, not sure whether I would find some revelation in what he said or whether I would retreat back into self-pity.

   I stopped to consider what he said before I made that decision. _Taku play the game_. Those words danced through my thoughts and filled my world. I questioned the source of my problems, the cause for my stress and my emotional fragility.

   What was it that Toby did that made her so strong amongst the Humans? She could walk into congress and change the minds of those who had such huge say in the country’s decisions. Changing the minds of politicians seemed like a daunting, nigh impossible task. And yet, she could. And she could do it without the frightening breakdowns and mishaps that I had been experiencing.

   How did she do it? How did she do it different from me?

   _She played the game._

   I collapsed back against the trunk of my tree and stared blankly at my knee blades, pondering over the new idea that swept over me.

   Maybe I was asking the wrong questions. I should’ve be asking what I was _not_ doing rather than what Toby _was_ doing.

   I was not integrating well with the Humans, that was for sure. Toby never really did, either, but she held a professional disguise in the situations when such was needed. She knew how to play the part, how to act like a Human.

   Maybe that was it. I was not acting Human. I had refused to play the Human game for so long, preferring to be the Hork-Bajir that I so loved. I didn’t want to be a politician. That kind of role was not natural to a Hork-Bajir. I didn’t exploit, I didn’t mislead. I didn’t lie.

   But I was not entirely a Hork-Bajir. Part of my mind was different. That was what made me a seer.

   How could I expect to be a politician if I refused to be like one? It was naïve, impossible. How did I not see it before?

   I had to play the game now. Maybe that would help.

   I started to laugh. It was funny. Very funny, actually. _To be a success_ , I thought, _I have to be the bad guy_. It made me laugh harder, and I slumped back against what I thought was the trunk of my tree. Instead, I felt skin. My eyes bolted upwards, and between the distorted light that glistened through the canopies I saw the shape of a feminine head looking back down at me.

   I stopped my laughing and forgot everything. She bent down to bring her face closer to mine, and she then bent her head forward to connect our blades in a deep kiss.

   “I didn’t expect to see you here…” I whispered, letting her kiss me before turning over to a more respectable position.

   “Taku know to speak to the trees.” She replied with a light-hearted smile.

   “I didn’t think that I did,” I said back. “I didn’t even know that I was right now. It’s good to see you.”

   “Good to see Taku Kelmut, too, but Taku is sad.”

   I nodded meekly. “Yes, but I think I may know what to do. Ruga may have given me the answer that I needed. I don’t need to be Taku the Hork-Bajir all the time. I can be Taku the Human politician!”

   She giggled, and oh how I had missed hearing it. “Taku make a better Hork-Bajir.”

   “I think so, too. But maybe it’s a change I have to make. I only wish you were here to help me.”

   “Taku have friends,” She pointed. “Taku have lots of friends.”

   I looked to the branch that I stood on. Her tail brushed lightly over my toes. “I did, until I pushed them away. Now I am alone. I will not take my people from the park again. I cannot forgive myself for what happened to Pluk.”

   “Taku is good,” She commented sweetly. “Not mean to do bad things. Bad things happen to Taku. Bad thing happen to Pluk.”

   “A bad thing happened to you, too.” I replied mournfully.

   But she did not flinch. Instead, she continued to smile and pulled me up to my feet so that I stood facing her. We looked deeply into each other’s eyes, and I felt the connection that I had never had before. I moved closer and connected my blades to hers again.

   “I miss you.” I whimpered, trying to hold back tears as I began to wrap my arms around her.

   “Miss Taku, too.”

   We embraced closer than we had ever done before. I felt so comforted by her presence and so relieved that she was finally back, even for that brief moment. I wanted nothing less than to be with her forever, to have her close to me whenever I felt down and depressed.

   “I’m so alone,” I managed to speak. “So alone…”

   And she was gone. I took my arms off of the tree trunk and took a couple steps back. Her stay was brief, but I knew she would return again.

   Then I heard a rustle. Not the rustle of leaves but that of a bird. I diverted my gaze to the upper level of the tree, and I saw the feathered creature sat in a nearby branch. A bird of prey, brown of feather with a white belly, its gaze fixated on me.

   It spoke to me in an unfamiliar voice. I must have been hallucinating, because a bird had never spoken to me before. In a Human voice, it said, ((You are never alone.))

   It flew away, vanishing from the canopies in a flurry of brown and orange.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

I travelled to a small town that neighboured the park. It was a cosy suburban place that always seemed to shine even on the cruellest winter days. Snow glistened on the ground as the sun’s rays hit, creeping through a sea of light-grey cloud, though not warm enough to defeat the cold. The journey over kept my body warm enough, and I barely fussed a shiver as I bounded from a line of trees onto flat Human ground.

   My body was able to relax for a minute as I composed and reoriented myself, casting my eyes over the army of Human dwellings in the near-distance. Opening my palm, I made sure that I still had the coins that I had taken from Toby’s accounts. I tried to see it as borrowing, but I knew that I wouldn’t be giving it back. She didn’t have any use for it, anyway.

   I hadn’t dropped any on the long journey, a fear that I’d had for the entire duration. I jangled the coins, enjoying the sounds that they made, and wrapped my fingers back over them to keep them safe. Knowing my location, I switched to a steady stroll and headed southwards into the Human habitat.

   In the late morning, there was plenty of Human activity, but not as much as during rush hour. The weather as it was, most were in their homes, oblivious to what was happening on the outside when I connected with the sidewalks and went about my business as if I were one of them. My toes clipped the flat surface, my tail swished over the thin layer of snow, and apart from my lack of clothes, those were the only differences between myself and them.

   Cars drove by. My eyes could pick out the faces of the owners as they passed. They were puzzled, in awe of the extra-terrestrial visitor plodding his way to the nearest convenience store. A couple of them slowed to watch. One of them waved and gave a genuine smile. I waved back and almost dropped my coins.

   A female was walking a small dog. It was excessively fluffy, white and permed, barely noticeable against the white of the snow. It saw me quickly and stopped in its tracks, unsure on how to react. The owner, glued to her phone as most Humans usually were, didn’t flinch. She snapped out the dog’s name and pulled its lead despite its protest.

   As we approached on a collision course, that dog became ever more nervous. It began to yelp and bounce backwards into threatening postures, the effect dulled whenever the lead dragged it forward in graceless stumbles.

   She didn’t even look up when we came ten metres from each other, even as the canine’s behaviour became more and more extrovert. I didn’t know whether to catch her attention or not.

   Then I thought about how she would notice when she passed. How could she miss a 7-foot alien stomping past? Maybe I was underestimating the power of an iPhone…

   “Good morning.” I greeted when she was about three metres from me. That distance shrank to virtually zero when she lifted her head away from the tiny screen.

   The small Human froze, her fingers twitching open to let the phone crash to the ground beside the panicking dog. We stood motionless, both analysing the situation. She was speechless and I didn’t know what to say.

   But I wouldn’t let the situation turn more awkward than it already was. “I’m sorry,” I said to the stunned female. I reached down slowly and retrieved the fallen gadget, making sure that it wasn’t broken in any way. I held it for her to take. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

   She was just able to muster the energy to grab the phone as I slipped it back into her hand. She looked at it and then back to me. At last, she brought her lower jaw back up so that her mouth was not agape, swallowed and stuttered out her reply. “Um… Thanks…”

   I smiled widely with intent to make it as Human as possible. “If your phone is broken, bring it to the Yellowstone Centre. I will happily have it replaced for you.”

   “It’s… it’s fine,” She responded, taking her eyes off me long enough to assess the phone. “Thanks.”

   Neither of us paid any attention to the yapping dog, still causing a stir below us. However, I didn’t want to keep them too long. “That’s good. Still, I’d love for you to visit the park sometime. We love seeing visitors and we really need support to stop them building a highway over our homes. Have you heard about that?”

   Still understandably stunned, her voice was slow and broken. “Yes, I heard about that.”

   I knew that I wasn’t get much more from her. After startling her, she wasn’t going to be very talkative not matter how much she potentially agreed with our position. I smiled kindly to her. “I have to go to the store. I hope you have a nice day, um… What is your name?”

   Her confidence was slowly coming back, and she answered more convincingly this time. “Rebecca.”

  “My name is Taku,” I said. “I hope you have a nice day, Rebecca.”

   She managed a smile, and that made me feel so much better. I bowed my head and continued along my path, allowing her to continue on her own.

   There were many Humans along the way. Many had the same reactions as Rebecca had. Not used to seeing a Hork-Bajir outside of the park, they were shocked at first (more so the closer I was) but their in-built knowledge told them that I was no threat. I was a friendly visitor who had stumbled out of the park boundaries, as far as they were concerned. A visitor covered in blades perhaps… They still kept some distance.

   They became more frequent as I reached my desired location. It was a small convenience store that was barely distinguishable from the homes surrounding it. A blue and red banner stretched over the front was the hint that I needed to tell me I was at the right place. I stepped lightly towards the entrance, leaning my head forward to spot anybody coming around the corner. A fragile, aged female with bunched grey hair was just pulling her large handbag full of items over her shoulder when she turned up to see me. She jumped back, and for a moment I thought that the risk of a heart attack was dangerously close to fruition with the magnitude of the jump and her years. (I considered having just the one-heart to be a huge flaw in Human development for that very reason!)

   Alas, she showed no signs of it. She held a hand over her chest in her shock and examined my body from head blade to toe.

   “Good morning!” I greeted. It was my usual opener to mixed reactions. This particular old lady was able to push aside her initial fear, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she took her handbag in both hands, pressed her body against the opposite frame of the door and squeezed through with as much distance between us as possible. She trotted away, frequently looking back to make sure I wasn’t following her.

   “Have a good day!” I called to her, unfettered by her fear.

   I rolled my shoulders and stretched my neck before having to lower it in order to get through the store door. Catching it before it slowly swung shut, I gently pushed it open and stepped daintily onto the red tiled flooring. My toenails clipped on the surface as I manoeuvred to close the door behind me.

   The store was mostly empty. The only Human I could see was behind the counter in the distance, his backed turned to attend to a row of chocolate bars that required refilling. He wore a red polo shirt and had lost the vast majority of his hair. I considered whether to take his attention straight away to avoid potential confrontations. In the end, I decided to approach, preferring not to be suspected of sneaking around, trying not to be seen.

   Before I could get there, the tapping of my toes had spilled over his ears. He perked and turned to locate the source of the strange noise as I came halfway towards him. Expectedly, he jumped in place, his eyes bolting open as his mind raced to assess the situation.

   It did not stop me. My movements slowed, but I continued towards him, making sure to smile in a way that he could potentially see as friendly. Thankfully, it seemed to diffuse the scenario. Either that or he had concluded by himself that I was no direct threat. He raised a sole eyebrow and cocked his head at me, bringing his self out from behind the counter.

   “Hey!” He shouted. “Get out of here! You ain’t supposed to be around here!”

   The male Human approached to about 3 metres and resorted to shooing me with his hands, explaining bluntly that I was not welcome in his store. I stood my ground and tried to get in a word or two.

   “I don’t mean to be a problem,” I eased to him. “I was hoping to buy something from your store.”

   This confused him further still. He gawked up at me with suspicious eyes. “You Horks don’t buy stuff. You don’t even come out this far.”

   “I know. But I am no ordinary Hork-Bajir.” I replied with a grin.

   The store owner, whose name badge read “Nigel”, mulled over what exactly that meant. “Do I know you? You ain’t that one that’s been on TV, are you?”

   “I’ve been on the television a few times, yes.”

   “You’re that one who said you hated us Humans.” He accused. I had to think fast to divert the conversation away from an undesirable end.

   I shook my head lightly. “I have said that, but it was not something that I really meant. I was very upset at the time. If it weren’t for you Humans, I would not be standing here with you today. I would likely be a slave to the Yeerk empire, or I would never have been born at all. I have much to thank you for, and I apologise for any offense I caused with what I have said.”

   Had he bought it? The suspicious gaze didn’t drop, but he didn’t grow angry or frustrated. Instead, he tried to get to the real issue at hand. “Why are you in my store?”

   Relieved that he seemed to accept me, my mouth turned up to a pleased grin and I held out my hand, palm up and fingers unfurled to reveal the coins that they held. The Humans previous expression vanished to be replaced by one of pleasant surprise.

   “Well,” He huffed with a smile of his own. “I ain’t never served a Hork before, but you came to the right place, my friend.”

   “Yes, I believe I have.” I agreed.

   He took a step closer. “What are you looking for, Mr…”

   “Kelmut,” I reminded him. “I’m after something for a friend.”

 

   It wasn’t hard to find my way from the store to my next destination. It was only a few blocks away, but it required that I moved further into the Human habitat. The closer I strolled, the more attention I began to receive. Eventually, I had to start explaining that I was in a rush when small groups of Humans would try to stop me on the sidewalk to gaze upon me like I was an extravagant and rare tourist attraction. Maybe I was.

   Even a police vehicle rolled up. It was only when I gave them my name and explained that I was on my way to a business meeting when they let me on my way. They seemed courteous and polite, though, despite their stern insistence that I shouldn’t be walking the streets unsupervised. It was somewhat of an unofficial warning.

   Barring such incidents, the trip wasn’t problematic. I reached the correct street just as the Sun was coming close to its peak in the winter midday, a pleasant suburban environment with single-story, charming homes lining both sides of the road. There were shining vehicles that stood guard over the sidewalks like the pillars of the Parthenon. One was instantly distinguishable and I jogged in that direction, making sure to look both ways as I crossed the deserted road.

   I weaved around the silver-blue car and the carefully trimmed bushes that led to the front door. In position, I took in a deep breath, rolled my shoulders and tapped tree times on the door’s white surface.

   “Just a sec!” I heard her call faintly from inside. I could just barely make out the sound of a hair dryer in the background. It stopped and footsteps approached.

   The front door opened and there stood Clarissa, her long brown hair collected in one hand and a brush in the other. Grooming herself, as usual. She looked up at me and the brushing momentarily came to a stop.

   “Oh, it’s you.” She grumbled. Our time spent apart had apparently not calmed things in her mind.

   “Hello, Clarissa,” I replied lightly, using my facial expressions to show that I was there on good terms, knowing that she could identify them. “It’s been a while.”

   She leaned up against the door that was still only half open and narrowed her eyes. “What do you want, Taku?”

   I was hoping previously that she would be at least a little bit welcoming. She had been my friend for most of my life, short as it was. It was painful knowing how two minutes of lost tempers could destroy what we had built for months. I bowed my head at the thought, letting her question hang for a while. Before she became too impatient, I attempted to win back her favour and pulled up the bouquet of purple flowers that I had bought from the store. I pleaded her silently for forgiveness, offering them to her for peace.

   Clarissa looked at them, her brushing hand stopping again as the situation shifted. I was infinitely pleased when I saw those soft Human lips curl into a smile. She started to brush her hair again and her eyes came back to mine.

   “I guess you can come inside.”

   She opened the door fully and with that permission I shuffled beneath the door frame to enter her home. The scents of familiar perfumes ravaged my senses, tickling my throat. Big exaggerated fluffy objects in feminine colours were strewn about the place, perhaps vestiges of Christmas that had still yet to be taken down or just new, extravagant pieces meant to add some kind of flavour to the environment. Just trusting Clarissa’s decisions in that department was probably the easiest choice. Nevertheless, I still remembered the house, though it had been a while since I last stood in it.

   Clarissa closed the front door and then walked out before me as I stood in the open space wondering which of my senses was most overpowered. She placed herself directly in front of me and folded her arms over her chest expectantly. She said nothing and I knew what she wanted from me.

   I held out the flowers again, repeating the routine that I had started outside. “I want to say that I am sorry, Clarissa,” I began, lowering my head a little so that we gazed on the same level. “I didn’t mean those things that I said back in the hotel.”

   She sighed, but it was soft and understanding. “You said it like you meant it.”

   “I know. A lot of it was said because I was angry. Since then, I’ve learnt a lot about you, even though you haven’t been close by. You are a great friend.”

   My words were genuine, and her facial expression clearly acknowledged that. She took the flowers gently from my claws and pulled them to her chest. “So you remembered how much I like purple flowers,” She chuckled. “How did you get these?”

   “I went to that local store just a couple blocks away. The owner seemed reluctant to serve me at first, but when I showed him that I had money, he quickly changed his mind,” I paused, listening back over what I just said. Then I laughed, “ _Changed_ his mind… That’s a good joke!”

   Clarissa raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t use it around me. Anyway, you know that that is totally against the rules! You know, going to the store without a supervisor. You could, like, get arrested, Taku!”

   I bowed my head. “Yes, that was possible, but I want to make a change. I’m sure you’ve seen my reputation declining these last few months.”

   She looked downwards pitiably. “Yeah. You went a bit, you know… psycho. Everyone thinks that you’re a bit schizo.”

   I huffed a laugh. “That’s understandable. It’s hard to explain really.” I looked her in the eyes again and saw her waiting for my reasons. “Well, not hard, I guess. Toby and Cassie left, I got given all of Toby’s responsibilities… Relk died. She was killed by Humans. I saw nothing but Human greed and violence suffocating my people. I thought that I hated Humans. Because I thought that, I thought I hated you, too. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

   Clarissa smiled warmly, a smile that I had so dearly missed over the last torturous months. “Taku, I forgive you,” She spoke softly. “And I’m sorry about what I said, too. I missed you, you know. You’re my big space lizard kid! You always will be.”

   “Thank you.” I uttered, feeling an emotional clogging in my throat that threatened to bring a tear from my eyes. It was such a relief to be reunited with Clarissa again. She was desperately needed.

   “Hey, no problem,” She replied melodiously. “So, I’m going to put the flowers in some water, and then you can help me with some chores! I know how much you love vacuuming!”

   “Ah, yes. I adore it.” I lied, grinning politely to cover it up.

   To be perfectly honest, I didn’t mind the chores. On that particular day, I was actually very happy to help out. In such a small, clogged space as a Human living room, however, it was incredibly difficult for a Hork-Bajir to perform a task efficiently without knocking things over. I fetched the vacuum cleaner and, remembering how everything worked and where everything was, I got to work, so happy to be back at Clarissa’s that I couldn’t help but move with extra bounce in my step as I negotiated the large, noisy contraption around the room.

   It was always one of my favourite rooms. Between all the fancy fluffy things and the mirrors and the grooming products, there were photographs. It was like Toby’s office wall: A place for memories and achievements, things that she was proud of and wanted to hold close.

   I was there, which surprised me. I hated to admit to myself that I thought Clarissa would hold a grudge against me and discard any evidence of my existence. She hadn’t. In fact, some of my pictures were very central, almost vital to the pattern she had formed on the wall. I saw myself at many ages, the most fascinating being one from a few days after I first met her, the first time I visited her home. I paused from my work and took a closer look at the picture, running my hand under the frame to angle it for a better view.

   Clarissa was holding that small Hork-Bajir as they sat side by side on the couch. They both smiled warmly, close friends after only knowing each other for a few days, even after a less-than-perfect start. The Hork-Bajir was just over half her height with immature blades and big innocent eyes.

   I had not seen the picture before. It must have been put up recently, despite its age.

   “Taku!”

   I turned my head. Clarissa was standing at the other side of the living room couch, holding another grooming tool. She averted my attention downwards to the vacuum cleaner. Half of the couch cover had been sucked up through the tube.

   Feeling very foolish, I turned off the machinery and began pulling the fabric from it. “Sorry. I was looking at the pictures.”

   Clarissa silently forgave my mistake with the vacuum and wandered over. She noticed the picture that I had been looking at. “I found that one last month. I thought I needed at least one picture from when you were still, you know, cute. That’s definitely changed…”

   “I still have my looks.” I defended with minimal conviction.

   She rolled her eyes and then pulled us both over to another picture. She was sat with another Hork-Bajir. He was even younger, possibly only a few months old. Clarissa was showing him a Human child’s toy. Big colourful shapes in the form of a simple puzzle.

   “I’m with that group right now,” Clarissa informed. “Ain’t he just adorable? Really quiet, though. I’m trying to help him learn to speak.”

   I nodded, not sure how to express my feelings about her focusing her attention elsewhere. Not that I could blame her, because it was I who effectively ended her role as my supervisor. I wanted to reverse that decision. “So you stayed in the park,” I muttered whilst trying to find the right words. “With my people.”

   “Of course I did!” She reacted with a disbelieving laugh. “It was either that going back to hairdressing.”

    “You are very good with my people. The best,” I complimented sincerely as I let my sight rest on the picture. “I wouldn’t have you elsewhere.”

   Clarissa turned to lean back on the wall. “So who’s been with you since… you know?”

   “Sandy.” I answered with a certain expectation.

   She didn’t fail to deliver. “Sandy?! Oh my god, she is, like, totally evil! How did you get stuck with her?!”

   I looked to the ceiling and smiled. “There was nobody else to do the job at the time. To her credit, she helped greatly when Pluk was hit.”

   “Pluk… Oh, that Hork-Bajir that got run over?”

   “Yes. He is my good friend. Now he is hospital, but he is making a good recovery, though he will be lucky if he ever walks like he used to again.”

   We both took that moment to pause and reflect, our eyes diverging. Clarissa must have known that I was somehow involved, but I knew she wouldn’t bring it up. Eventually, after those torturous few seconds, I decided that I should beat my mental obstacles.

   “Clarissa, I want you back.”

   She did not look surprised. She simply grinned and folded her arms over her chest, a cocky expression purveying her lips. “I was waiting for you to say that.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

Clarissa joined me in my office back in the Yellowstone Centre a couple days later. She brought along her usual entourage of grooming kits and mirrors, but I had planned a busy day ahead. She wouldn’t be able to do her full coating with what I had in mind.

   I arrived extra early, popping my head into the main entrance at 5AM to see the cleaners beginning their work. With them present, I had to make sure that my feet were exceptionally free of dirt before strolling around the building and ruining their hard work. I filled my water bottles from the canteen, checked in and sped to my office to begin the rigorous work that I was desperate to do.

   It had been a few days since I last entered the stuffy room. Papers had begun to pile up high on my desk, folders collapsing to the floor in unattractive heaps. A used mug had been left on the desk by the computer monitor where one of my Human peers had come in to do something unknown to me. I sighed deeply, but didn’t dwell on the mess too long. I had come in specifically early to compensate for such occurrences. Another task to perform before the rest of the team arrived, and I quickly got into it.

   Thin layers of dust had settled on the few picture frames and the windows. The plants had started to wither after days without proper care. I fed them from my own water bottle and cleared away dead leaves, losing them occasionally between the piles of paper destined to join them in the recycling bins. Once the outskirts of my room were clear, addressing my desk became a much easier task.

   “You’re in early.” Clarissa’s distinct feminine voice rang.

   I turned my neck to glance at her. “I have a lot to do here today. I came in early to make sure that I could get things clean and still have time to do the important things.”

   She smiled before swooping over to place her handbag in the visitor seat that sat blandly at the right-hand side of my desk. “There’s, like, so much here! When did you last come in here?”

   “I can’t remember too well. The last few months have been a blur, and to be honest I would rather pretend that they never happened.”

   “Fresh start?”

   “Fresh start,” I agreed. “Could you help me throw these papers, please?”

   I gave my request as she was reaching into her bag, most likely for a comb. She hesitated and, hiding her disappointment, joined me in the big clean-up.

   We chatted for a while, mutually establishing how we would move forward after everything had happened. I could tell that Clarissa was concerned about my well-being, though she wouldn’t say it to my face. She would look at me in a suspicious fashion following some remarks that I personally considered innocent and meaningless. Perhaps she was fishing for something that wasn’t there.

   Some things used to be, but I could feel that they had left. The tension that arose from my inner contradictions and confusions had subsided, assured in new answers, satiated in my new view of the world. My mind was free of it and I could now see the path I needed to take. I told her all of that, but she was yet to be convinced.

   The other staff of the building had begun to arrive and the activity outside of my door was increasing. When people began to notice my return they couldn’t resist knocking on the door to see what on Earth was going on. Grant Higham had some choice words, especially. Having told me that my unexplained absence was the last straw and that I would not be welcome back to the Centre, I reminded him that Toby had been gone unexplained for much longer and that I was still the only Hork-Bajir capable of doing the jobs. He didn’t like it, but he had to deal with me.

   Jonathan and Jason stayed longer than most others. They were my closest friends at the Centre and I personally wanted to give them my sincerest apologies.

   “I have been very on-edge,” I explained, stood before my desk with the pair of them and Clarissa sat before me like nervous students in a lecture hall. “And I haven’t been myself. I was rude, probably very obnoxious and a lot of my work was handed to you when it was meant to be done specifically by myself. I set myself a standard and I did not meet it. I’m surprised that you are sitting here now, listening to me as if I deserved it. I don’t. I can’t thank you enough for being here for me as I try to turn this whole mess back around.”

   The three of them accepted my apologies, but I couldn’t help but notice how they fidgeted awkwardly at the suggestion that I could fix what had been broken. I looked to them pleadingly for their concerns, waiting for somebody to finally make the point that they felt was so relevant.

   Clarissa, of course, was first to speak back. “Taku, you tried your best with the whole freeway thing.”

   “Clarissa’s right,” Jason added. “We’ve tried, as well. We combatted it for months, but everyone outside the park wants it built. I think we’ve got to take the positives out of it. We’ll have increased tourism in the park, better exposure. The tourism is what drives the donations that keep us going.”

    It was disheartening, but I could understand why they would be so demotivated. “It’s not as if we need increased tourism. The park already gets enough to run this centre and maintain the facilities anyway. It gets so much money that we don’t know what to do with it!”

    “We could use the money for education programmes.” Jonathan suggested meekly, hand scratching his cheek.

   “Education for who? Tourists or Hork-Bajir?” I asked.

   “Uh… Both, I guess.”

   I tapped my foot ponderously and considered. “We already have so many programmes. Every Hork-Bajir colony has easy access to a Human teacher at least once a week, and the park has education centres for tourists everywhere. I don’t think we need anymore.”

   Jason started to look a little further forward. “We may need the extra money with the park cut in half. A freeway and a town will mean that we need to spend more money for new centres, new fences.”

   “The State should pay for all that stuff.” Jonathan explained.

   By that point, I had my snout in my hands. I shook my head and brought their attention back before they could go any further. “Why are we talking about this as if the decision to build the freeway is final?”

   A dreadful pause broke the momentum before Jason spoke up again, leaning his lean Human frame forward in his chair. “The freeway is going to happen, Taku. Sorry, but there’s not much we can do about it now.”

   “Has it been built yet?” I pressed.

   Jason raised an eyebrow. “Well, no…”

   “Then there is plenty we can do about it.”

   Clarissa was equally baffled. “What, though? You tried talking to the Governor and you said he wouldn’t change his mind!”

   “That’s because I didn’t know how to,” I replied with my most confident smile in a long while. “But now I do. I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time.”

   They were silent, waiting for me to get on with it and tell them. Clarissa dropped her chin onto her palm in growing frustration.

   “He’s a politician,” I summarised. “Of course I can’t convince him face-to-face. I have to hit him where it hurts.”

   “Voters?” Jonathan quickly concluded.

   “Precisely.”

   They took that in reluctantly. Having a hard time seeing how it could be done, they pushed further.

   Clarissa lifted her head from her hands just slightly. “You aren’t the voters’ favourite space alien right now.”

   “But I am not pushing for my own sole benefit. I’m not running for any election. It’s for my people. The majority of Humans love my people, going by what I’ve experienced. Yes, perhaps it is largely a novelty factor, but I cannot, for one second, believe that the population will turn a blind eye when the Hork-Bajir make a plea. We are allies.”

   They understood that point and all three looked a little more reassured. Jason, cool as ever, laid back in his seat with his arms over his chest, eyebrows furrowed as he calculated my ideas. “That’s true,” He said. “But everybody already knows that this is happening.”

   “He’s right, Taku,” Jonathan added, turning in his seat. “It’s been on all the news stations, local and national!”

   “Then we should try harder,” I retorted staunchly. “We haven’t been doing it right. All I’ve seen is bland explanations, irrelevant commentaries from people who know nothing about what this will do to my people. I am not favourable, I know, but I am the only one to effectively connect my people and yours. Isn’t that what Toby did? Everything good for us came because she was the translator. Without a mouthpiece, my people are without a voice. They are too polite to go around asking Humans to fulfil their needs, so Toby did it for them. The same was true even when the war was going on. Sometimes it made her seem cold, maybe even unwelcoming. She was more Human than Hork-Bajir. She was playing the Human game, something that I haven’t done all this time. I’ve seen her at her home tree in the park where she drops the Human side. She becomes Hork-Bajir in all but language. But it remains there and she turns Human as soon as she steps onto artificial flooring.”

   “You want to be the Hork-Bajir voice,” Clarissa helpfully summarised. “That’s great, you know, but nobody wants to see you break down again.”

   They looked among themselves sympathetically and I got the terrible feeling that an intervention was beginning.

   Jason was the first to look back. “There was a meeting last week, Taku. We needed to assess you.”

   “Assess me how? Why was I not invited?”

   “You can’t deny that you haven’t handled the media very well. Same goes for the meeting with the state governor. We heard about what happened there very quickly and we arranged the emergency meeting to discuss your role at the Centre.”

   My arms dropped limply to my side and my head bowed. It was definitely not what I wanted to hear and part of me wanted to hush him and just ignore that it had ever been brought up.

   Jason shrugged and avoided eye contact. “Sorry, Taku, but we don’t think you should do this kind of stuff. You work fine here in the Centre, but we can’t risk you losing your cool out of the park again.”

   I couldn’t respond, no matter how much I wanted to. I could see that Clarissa was equally stunned, her eyes darting between me and the others. I didn’t want to look at them, so I turned and rested my hands on the desk, my breathing rate increasing.

   “We’re really sorry, Taku,” Jason repeated. “We’re worried about your health more than anything else.”

   I was angry, but I permitted it. I didn’t let it take me into the terrible lands it had taken me to before, but it didn’t stop me from sharing my frustration. “Worried that I’ll slice the head off the next obnoxious news anchor? Maybe the Governor himself?” I huffed, turning back to them. “I know the real reason you don’t want me out there. I get it. I really do. After the last few months I wouldn’t allow myself out there either. I would chain myself to the nearest tree and have Mother spoon-feed me sap. But it’s different now. I have changed. I know what to do.”

   Thankfully, Clarissa had my back. “I think Taku deserves another chance. I’ll be there with him, so I’ll make sure he stays calm and relaxed.

   Jonathan nodded lightly. “We could hold another meeting. It doesn’t seem fair that Taku didn’t come to the last one to defend himself.”

   I smiled, the brief anger subsiding as fastidiously as it had arrived. “I would like that. At least to make my case and put my ideas forward. I know that I can avoid another outburst and I can prove it.”

   “We’ll get it arranged,” Jason assured me with his confident grin. “Leave it to us.”

   Clarissa spoke up, “You do as I say though, okay?”

   I rolled my eyes and grumbled out, “Yes, okay.”

   Things fell silent as the room became open to any other business. When it became clear that our brief gathering had come to a close, Jonathan cleared his throat and picked up several pads of paper that he had placed under his seat. He adjusted and then did the same with his glasses. “Taku, I brought these over from the main office.”

   I leaned back against my desk, letting my tail tap the floor between my feet. “What are they?”

   “These are the papers that have come in this last week. Addressed to Toby.” He clarified, stepping up and handing the papers into my open hands.

   “Addressed to Toby, huh?” I muttered, gazing down at them blankly. “Well, I think you should leave them on her desk, then.”

   Jonathan blinked, stumped. “Um… I thought you wanted Toby’s files. You… You said that you would take care of them while she wasn’t here.”

   “I did, but I’ve changed my mind,” I told him, gently pushing the files back in his direction. “Toby decided to leave. I’m not here to pick up her pieces. That’s her job. When she gets back, she can go through all the papers that have built up herself. Then I’ll strip her of her governmental position. Not even she is able to abandon her duties for so long without repercussion. I’m sure she can write a couple of bestsellers when she’s retired.”

   Clarissa shone her gleaming white teeth and folded her arms, impressed. “You’re ruthless, Governor Kelmut. I like that.”

\---

   “ _Constitution._ ”

   “Con-sti-tu-tion,” I copied, dragging the words out in its individual syllables to perfect each sound, pushing the source of sound up to my throat to increase the pitch. “There. I think that sounds better.”

   “A little,” Clarissa judged, moving the file to my right elbow blade which I dutifully lifted to ease her movement. “You just have to keep doing it, you know.”

   “I understand, but it’s very difficult not to revert back to my usual voice. Talking like a Human is hard.”

   “You wanted to do it!” She asserted, tugging my arm to a steeper angle as she began to file it down.

   I sighed, accepting my liability. Clarissa had always offered to help my voice sound more Human, but I had forever refused it. In light of my new plans, however, I deemed it more necessary than ever, The Hork-Bajir tone is a couple semitones down from the average Human and comes hand-in-hand with an oft-grating unsubtle roughness as if talking with an eternal sore throat. It didn’t make our speech inaudible, but it was distinctly not Human. If I was to communicate better with them, I needed to sound like them.

   So, several hard-working hours after the meeting with my three peers, I decided that my lunch break would be spent perfecting my Human voice.

   I cleared my throat and tried it out once more. “I think I can get this to a good standard within a week,” I said, my throat beginning to strain with the unusual circumstances I was putting it through. “Just in time to start getting in touch with some old contacts.”

   Clarissa hummed her approval. “Which contacts?”

   “I’m not too sure yet,” I mused. “To be honest, I don’t know who is an enemy and who isn’t anymore. Maybe I have to make new contacts. It can’t be that hard to get involved with the media again.”

   She moved her head forward so that she could look into my eyes. The file continued to groom my blade. “What? You can’t be serious!”

   “I assumed you knew that my new ideas would put me back on television. I want news stations, adverts, public speeches. Anything that will help me spread the message to the people of this country and the whole world.”

   She looked pensive, but then she retreated behind me and continued her blade-blunting duty. “Why don’t you talk to talk to the TV guys in the park? Aren’t there loads around here?”

   “As always. I do plan to take full advantage of their presence,” I deliberated out load. “Those damn reality shows that exploit my naïve people… I wanted to get rid of them before. Now I think I’ll try something different. _Hork-Bajir Homes_ wants to talk about my people, then I shall let them, but I shall talk to the people in charge and make them go to the proposed highway zone. They will do their filming with those Hork-Bajir. We’ll make them work to our benefit if we can’t get rid of them.”

   “You think they’ll do that if you asked?”

   “If I demand? Yes. They will do it or they will leave.” I bluntly explained.

   “If you say so,” Clarissa said. “Sounds like a good idea if it works. What else are you going to do?”

   “Anything that will get the Humans on my side of this,” I said. “And I believe that I have a good way of achieving that.”

   “Go ahead.”

   “Well…” I began before feeling a little uneasy about what I was going to explain. “I have mentioned my friend before, the one who was hit in Cheyenne.”

   Clarissa sounded intrigued. “Go on.”

   “I can use him as an example. They want to build a road over our home. I’ll show them a Hork-Bajir who’s been in a road accident. Humans may only have one heart, but that’s definitely enough to care for a fellow sentient being. I’ll say that that is what will happen to more of my people.”

   She was shocked, almost as much as I was with my own suggestion. “You’re going to use your friend’s accident to get sympathy?! That doesn’t feel right, you know…”

   “Yes, I know, but I think it will work. Besides, Pluk will probably enjoy the attention.”

   Clarissa had stopped filing by this point. “Yeah, but…” She couldn’t find the words that she wanted to say. She gave up, throwing her hands up and going back to her duty. “Whatever. I’m not the seer, I guess.”

   “You don’t approve.”

   “Just feels weird.”

   That didn’t make me feel any better about the next thing I was going to say. “And there was Relk, too. She was killed by people who came into the park. More Human activity directly through the park means more chance of such killers getting in.”

   Clarissa was silent. Her opinions did not really need to be expressed.

   “Yes, I will be exploiting what happened to them,” I defended. “But it will be a great benefit to my people, I believe. I will do my best to ensure that Pluk is not disadvantaged in any way and that Relk’s family is not disturbed.”

   “Could you promise that?”

   “I’m not sure.”

   I felt the tool move away from my blade. Clarissa took herself from behind my seat and came to stand before me. She wanted both eye and physical contact, and she took one of my hands in both of hers, staring at me with her heavily-made-up eyes. “If you think that’s what you need to do, Taku, you should do it. Just… don’t do anything stupid, yeah?”

   I smiled. “I’ve already done all the stupid stuff. I’m bored of that now. I want to do something right this time. Maybe I’ll do some stupid things, maybe some wrong things, but it will all add up to something right in the end.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

   “No! You must leave these things alone. The Humans will be very upset if you break them.”

   The juvenile stood short below me, his stance apologetic. I couldn’t expect him to understand the worth of a video camera, but rules needed to be clear on this day. He said his sorry and scurried off back to the river where his friends had made their stronghold.

   It was foolish of the cameraman to leave his equipment unguarded on a fold-out table on the outskirts of the small camp that the news crew had constructed. Little hands were curious, especially this deep into the park where interaction between races was limited. The divide was clear at first when every Hork-Bajir in the area made a quick escape to a 100-yard distance. The people here were used to seeing an occasional group of campers or hikers, but not three separate film crews setting up a great eye sore in the centre of their home.

   Eventually they diffused over, but the interactions were a little awkward. My people were more interested in the filming equipment than the Humans that brought it. I was on constant alert for potential breakages.

   One camera had already gone missing. Apparently, I was in charge of investigations for that, too.

   “Ten minutes, Mr Kelmut!” Shouted the voice of the crew director for Wyoming State News. He was somewhere within the crowd of bodies, but his voice was loud enough to hear.

   “I’ll be ready!” I called back, hoping that he would hear me. With the warning in my mind, I needed to pass on duties. For the last couple of days, I had travelled up to the area to acquaint myself with the people. Knowing them by name, I was able to call Frit from a distance. He jogged over, eager to help out with what I needed. “Frit, please take over from me. I have to be elsewhere. Your job is to make sure that nobody plays with any of the Humans’ things. Is that okay?”

   Frit nodded. “Yes, Taku Kelmut. Frit will do that!”

   Pleased with myself and able to prepare, I searched out Clarissa. She was waiting for me by the 4x4 she had travelled up in and she had a great look of impatience on her face.

   She scalded me as I approached. “Where were you?! We have, like, no time to get you ready!”

   “I’m ready enough,” I replied, collapsing to a seating position before her, my feet aching from hours of standing and walking without rest. “I would like a drink, though, please. This Human voice acting is not good for my vocal system.”

   Clarissa reached over to her pop-up table that was mostly covered in her beauty products and bags of potato chips. From beneath the wreckage she picked out a bottle of water and hefted it over to me. I greedily gulped it all down and nearly took the bottle with the cool fluid.

   “Thank you.”

   “Whatever,” She grunted, pulling together a few cleansing tools destined to prepare me for my segment. “Hey, you’re getting pretty good with that voice, though! It sounds really good, you know?”

   I smiled to her friendly compliment, despite not being so approving myself. “Thank you, Clarissa. I suppose it’s worth the aches and pains to make me that little more relatable. It sure does confuse my people, however. They’ll stare at me like I’m something out of some hallucinogenic dream brought on by too much willow bark.”

   “Willow bark?” She asked, using a damp cloth to rub off stray dirt from my upper body.

   “Yes. It has hallucinogenic properties. For me, I just fall asleep.”

   Clarissa raised an eyebrow and decided that it was time to reverse the conversation back from the tangent. “They probably just think you sound weird. No biggie.”

   “Of course. I try to revert back to my natural voice when I’m back with them, but I train so frequently that I often forget to… It’s almost become the new default.”

   I grunted when she took the cloth to my face and started to rub roughly at the side of my snout. “I think it sounds great, Taku. People will love it! Especially if you can nail this report. I mean, that’s it, right? You just have to tell people what’s going on here.”

   I waited until the cloth was moved to my headblades to reply. “No debate, no counter-arguments. No arguments at all, I hope. It’s plain old reporting of what’s going to happen if Humans do not help my people. There are three crews here, and how fortunate that they should stumble upon the colony most in danger of losing their homes to the freeway just as they’re making a new school house in the trees!”

   “What a coincidence!” Clarissa chimed.

   I winked. “A wonderful one, too. Several interconnecting platforms with warming shelters and even a war memorial!”

   “Your ideas?”

   I looked down and felt the beginnings of a smile scratch the left side of my face. “They thought of it themselves, actually. I didn’t have to push or suggest anything. I mentioned building some platforms and that was it. Now the whole colony is busy making it one of the most wonderful structures I’ve seen. A treat for the film crews and the viewers, I’m sure.”

   “Mmhmm,” Clarissa murmured, finally taking away the filthy cloth. To my horror, she picked up the tweezers and began to look for splinters between my scales. “So what else have you been doing if not motivating the troops?”

   “Keeping the crews in check,” I grumbled, shifting my eyes to gaze over them in the distance. “I never liked _Hork-Bajir Homes_. Especially the director. I made a deal with them that I could get them this deep into the park where they could film the colonies in danger of losing their homes doing some exceptional acts. Of course, I still have to stop them filming my people scratching themselves in undignified ways and harassing some of the more stubborn locals. There is one such person who has refused to come down from his tree ever since the first crew showed up. The director wants to film his refusals, knowing very well that their presence is the reason he’s showing such stressed behaviour!”

   “It seems to be going well.” Clarissa observed, ignoring my little rant.

   “Well enough. My people have mixed reactions but there have been few conflicts. Hork-Bajir conflicts are never violent, anyway. A few barks and squeals and everything is settled.”

   “Thank God.” Clarissa sighed jokingly.

   Then she had finished removing splinters. I thought she had finished the worst parts, but then put her hands on either jaw and pried my snout open. I groaned and writhed a little, but succumbed to let her inspect my teeth.

   “Disgusting,” She hummed, releasing my snout. “But TV won’t smell your breath. Now, let’s see your best screen smile!”

   Why not? I bared my teeth in the cheeriest, most Human grin I could muster. Instantly, I noticed Clarissa cringe, and though I kept up the act, I had to get her reasoning. “No good?”

   “Yeah… Maybe we should just avoid the smile, okay?” She requested with an irritatingly sympathetic tone.

   “Is my smile not appealing?” I asked curiously, trying to avoid sounding upset.

   “Well, Hork-Bajir aren’t… uh… you know, _conventionally_ cute.” Clarissa explained.

   “By Human standards.” I huffed, folding my arms petulantly and flicking my nose into the air.

   “Yeah, and it’s Human eyes watching you today. You’re cute on the inside, Taku, okay? Work with that.”

   I continued my pouting even as I was given my two-minute warning. Clarissa carried out the rest of her pitstop and finally released me back into the real world with wishes of good luck and promises that I would do well. I got up, shook off any make-up and strolled back towards the news crew.

   They shouted amongst themselves, bustled around and made certain that the shot was acceptable and the lighting clear. I watched them from a distance to take my deep breaths and fiddle with the tip of my tail. Though my confidence was at a much welcomed peak, the nerves still tingled through my bones and right into each individual blade. I needed to keep the shivering under control.

   A Human hand stole my tail from my claws. Clarissa walked by, towards the crew where she would watch my performance. “You play with your tail when you’re nervous. You don’t need to be.”

   She was gone before I could reply, but I had stopped rubbing my tail. She was correct. There was no need to be nervous. Thousands of people watching me on television, perhaps millions, and all would be expecting another outburst or a cowering performance…  No pressure, Hork-Bajir _seer_!

   To give her own final words, another familiar face showed up beside me. Relk was always so determined to give her support. “I’ll be fine,” I told her. “Things will be different from now on. I will be the voice for my people, and the Humans will listen. Even if they don’t see me as… _conventionally_ cute.”

   I huffed and shook my head. Then I turned over my right shoulder to address her more directly. “You heard her, yes? Apparently we’re not that appealing.”

   Relk giggled. She didn’t care one bit. “Clarissa is wrong. Taku have a good smile.”

   “Thank you. You’re right. Our races have different standards of beauty.”

   She narrowed her eyes, just understanding enough of the words to take in the message. “What does Clarissa Human put on Taku’s face? It makes Taku look… less Taku.”

   I puzzled together what she had said, then realised that she was referring to the dabs of makeup slathered on my face to bring out what Clarissa explained to be “better features”. “Oh, that?” I chuckled, rubbing a claw down beneath my right eye. “It’s just stuff to bring out my skin for the camera.”

   “Oh.” She hummed. A hand reached up to rub where I had just, her sharp nails held pointing outwards to avoid scratching. She stroked beneath my eyes, but I felt nothing.

   “And Taku voice change,” She concluded. “Has Taku got bad throat?”

   “It is part of my new training. I want to sound more Human in interviews and in Human contact. It makes me more understandable and…” I realised that I was still speaking with that voice. I loosened my throat, reverting it back to how it would naturally sit. “I keep forgetting to stop.”

   Relk seemed to find it very amusing, but she was also relieved to hear my usual voice returning. “Taku do good today,” She assured. “If Taku have Human voice. If Taku have Taku voice. Human smile. Hork-Bajir smile.”

   I looked down, simultaneously embarrassed and flattered by her words.

   “Relk like Hork-Bajir smile better.” She finished, lending a playful smile of her own.

   “So do I.”

   Our headblades moved forward to kiss against each other. They touched, but her presence was only visual. I closed my eyes, feeling the connection on a much deeper level. When I opened them again, the tree stared back, ancient and wise.

   “Where is Kelmut?!” The director shouted. I must have missed a call. Turning, I could see that they were all ready and waiting impatiently. Clarissa was on her way over to hurry me along, but she noticed that I was alert and allowed me to escort myself.

   “It’s about time.” I heard as I walked among the crew. Within seconds, I was handed my microphone and my earpiece whilst being told where to stand by several people at the same time. It was a drone that I did not require and I simply waddled to the spot laid out in front of the huge main camera that would distribute my image state-wide. I saw myself in a tiny screen just below it, my tall figure stood perfectly central, microphone in hand. It didn’t feel like home, but it was much friendlier than before with the faint hints of my people conducting their activities somewhere behind me.

   It was too late to be given instructions. The team backed away and prepared themselves. My earpiece suddenly burst into life, as did another screen before me that portrayed a news anchor introducing the segment.

   And so I tried again.

   Diane Hartfield, the anchor, was partway through the introduction to the story. She had shoulder-length, shiny brunette hair and plenty of make-up, perhaps more than me. Her top was a bright, extravagant pink. “Those plans for the freeway have since gained public support from the Wyoming State Government that claims that it would be a major boost for tourism around Yellowstone. However, there is still plenty of controversy over whether Yellowstone should lose its reserve status, at least in certain areas, something that would be necessary for the plans to go ahead. With us now from the national park is Taku Kelmut, volunteer at the Yellowstone Centre. Looks cold over there, Taku!”

   I lifted the microphone closer to my snout and replied. “It’s very cold, Diane, but it’s good to be talking with you.”

   Diane was taken aback noticeably for a split second. I sounded a lot different with my Human voice on show. “Good to have you with us, Taku. Now, I can see a lot of activity going on behind you. Are your people aware of plans to build a freeway through that area of the park?”

   “Yes, Diane,” I nodded. It was a lie. “They heard that a road might be built over their home about a week ago, as did a number of other colonies that will potentially be affected. In truth, it will not only be them affected, but all of us. The planned construction would split the park and our population in half.”

   Not a stutter. I smiled inside and my confidence quickly rose. Would it remain so straightforward?

   “How did they react to the news?” Diane asked. An easy question and I was so relieved that she wasn’t determined to challenge me. At least not at that point.

   “The same way I would expect anybody to react. They love their homes here and they want to stay. We have veterans that have lived in these trees since the war ended and my people were moved here. I know individuals in these trees who were crippled in battles, who have specialised machines that help them onto their branches at night. It would not be such an easy relocation for them.”

   That part was not a lie. It was no secret that a huge number of Hork-Bajir in the park were crippled or mutilated. Those that were not euthanized by the Yeerks after ferocious battles during the war. They often needed aid to go about their daily activities in the park. I had deliberately introduced such a person to the _Hork-Bajir Homes_ crew earlier in the day. He’d had both hands sliced off during a battle with a small group of Andalites on Earth. It was one of the more forgiving injuries I had seen. The film crews lapped it up. It’s a strange Human fascination.

   “Of course, people understand those issues, Taku,” Diane continued. “But Governor Mitchell recently stated that the benefit of increased tourism and better access to the park would actually benefit the Hork-Bajir people. It could mean more funding or better exposure to the public. What do you say to that?”

   So we were getting to the real meat of the discussion. “Governor Mitchell has a vested interest in the state economy for obvious reasons, and I understand that Yellowstone and my people are the greatest source of tourism for the state by a massive margin. He has to maximise the intake of money for the state, but a line needs to be drawn. My people should not have their livelihoods interrupted and their homes moved to make that extra profit. And I know that there is little to convince him. He doesn’t see the park’s reserve status as an obstacle.”

   “Well, that actually brings me onto an interesting point,” Diane mused, staring briefly to some notes sat before her. “I’ve looked into the details for what defines a reserve, the kind that Yellowstone Park falls under. It seems to me that, in order for the status to remain valid, any introduced species’ must either be directly beneficial to the existing wildlife present or have previously been native the park, only to have been absent since Human intervention. According to that definition, surely Yellowstone must lose its reserve status.”

   “It’s a complicated issue. Certainly, it’s not as simple as a straight definition should make it,” I explained, my eyes darting to and from Clarissa, almost wanting to wave at her and display my contentedness. I did not let my composure slip. “Firstly, there are no well-backed studies that indicate that we are detrimental to the environment. If anything, we are beneficial to the trees that we harvest. There has been no drastic change in the Yellowstone ecology since our arrival. Secondly, we aren’t defined as a species, so we cannot be counted as an introduced species.”

   “So you don’t believe that Yellowstone should lose its reserve status.”

   “Not at all. It is still a reserve and it should remain that way.”

   I could tell that she was trying to make it more challenging, but she definitely wasn’t being aggressive. She kept the questions and statements rolling, but she allowed me the time to answer and didn’t counter. This was merely a segment to get my ideas out into the open and I felt so thankful for that.

   “And of course, there are many people who agree with you,” Diane informed. “Just Tuesday, the President for Resident Aliens spoke of his concerns on the planned town and freeway and how he fears that it will pave way for more plans that will envelop the park.”

   I shrugged and tilted my head indecisively. “I agree with the PRA’s intent, but I don’t think we should be too worried about a slippery slope. I have enough faith in the Human race that we will be protected adequately and not relegated to the same level of a caged zoo animal. However, the point still stands that we should protect our home and that profit is not placed as paramount over my people.”

   “We would hate to see that,” She replied as an empty gesture. “But what are you plans going ahead? How do you aim to tackle this issue?”

   “I will make it an issue,” I answered with a wry smile that I could not contain. “So far very little has been said about it. People know that there are plans, but they have not seen this wonderful area that is going to be paved over if plans go ahead,” I turned slightly and gestured to the trees behind me. I was placed perfectly for the camera to focus on my people hard at work, platforms steadily being constructed in a beautiful maze of layers and creativity. “The locals here are building a school. Behind this, just out of sight, they are making a monument for those lost in the war. For that to be taken down and replaced with a road… It would be incredibly saddening for us all.” I turned back and refocused. “The ongoing conflict with the Kelbrids and cases of terrorism have taken priority in the media recently. This news has therefore slipped under the radar. I’m desperate for people to see it for what it really is, because I have faith that the good people of this state will stand by our side.”

   She smiled and appeared to be satisfied with the main course. I didn’t expect her to go for dessert, but thinking about it, it was something that still remained on everybody’s mind.

   “One final thing, Taku,” She started, her smile dropping. “Governor Hamee has been missing for quite some time now, as has Cassie Roberts. On top of that, there was recently a report stating that two of the _Animorphs_ group members were spotted near Jackson. That was just last week… Do you have any idea what’s going on? Do you believe there might be a connection, and if so, why would Governor Hamee involve herself with a group in hiding after breaking several race-mutual laws in stealing two Andalite craft?”

   It took me by surprise. I had been getting little jots of news here and there about it, and I knew that people had started to piece the puzzle together. Aside, I knew nothing. “Governor Hamee’s presence is unknown to me.”

   “Of course, Taku. People were fearing the worst for Governor Hamee and Ms Roberts for a long time, but with the _Animorphs_ recent reoccurrences coming at around the same time the two disappeared, the public has grown suspicious.”

   I had to take a second to gather my thoughts. I couldn’t say anything that would throw further suspicion onto my friends, but I also didn’t want to hint an association with outlaws. I knew for certain that they hadn’t been kidnapped or killed… “All I know, Diane, is that Toby and Cassie will be doing their best for both my people and the nation as a whole. That is all I know.”

   It was enough. “Well, thank you very much, Taku. We wish you the best and hope that Governor Hamee and Cassie return soon.”

   “Thank you, Diane.” I finished courteously.

   “Oh,” She quickly blurted, deciding to add, “And I love the voice.” She smiled but I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or laced with mockery.

   “Thanks again.” I chuckled, ending with a grin. A hopelessly crafted blend of Hork-Bajir and Human grins.

   And it was over. It felt like it had only been seconds. My body was gone from the screen and I allowed it to loosen. It had tightened over the course of the interview, stuck straight with solidifying nerves. I almost collapsed when they regained their normal state, but I steadied myself with my tail.

   After all this time, I had finally finished a television interview. No explosions, no cowering. I had finally done it!

   I could barely contain myself. I bobbed up and down like an excited child from one foot to the other. The wait for somebody to relieve me of my equipment seemed to last ten times longer than the interview itself, but when I was finally freed I yipped and bounced in Clarissa’s direction.

   Then I realised my role and my reputation and instantly calmed. The great smile remained and my composure made a return. It threatened to abandon me again when I saw Clarissa, a congratulatory expression on display. She knew more than anybody how big a step this was for me.

   Was I overexcited about a two minute section on a local news station that had gone adequately, with nobody there to really challenge me? Overreacting? Probably. But at that point, I felt like I could take on the whole world and still have enough left to stick a middle finger up at the Andalites.

   I was a child again.

   “I did it!” I called to Clarissa.

   She understandably flinched as I came bounding towards her, but when she knew it was safe she moved forward and wrapped her arms around my upper body. “Well done, Taku! You were so great!”

   Knowing that I would not cut her accidentally, I completed the hug. “Even… Even the voice? I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic…”

   Clarissa released me and used the opportunity to shrug unknowingly. “Hmm… I’d say it wasn’t mocking, but it wasn’t entirely serious.”

   I didn’t quite know how to react. “So neither?” Is that good?”

   “Your voice doesn’t matter,” Clarissa laughed, shaking her head. “But that smile was, like… what?”

   “What?”

   “Yeah.”

   I scratched at my chin. She had lost me.

   “Don’t worry about it. You did exactly what you needed to do. Maybe better!”

   My dopey grin returned. I was incredibly proud of myself, but still overly conscious of the opinions of the news crew just behind me. Even Clarissa started to look embarrassed.

   “Hey, why don’t I take you for a meal tonight?” She offered. “A congratulations for a successful return. I know a good place.”

   A restaurant? I stopped bouncing for a moment. “There are restaurants that cater for Hork-Bajir?”

   She laughed and pushed at my shoulder. “No, silly! But the one I’m thinking of might make an exception for one night only.”

   “I suppose they’ll just get that hidden piece of bark out of the freezer…” I rolled my eyes.

   Clarissa glared at me with twisted lips, almost aggravated by my sarcasm. “Hey, lizard, I had to do this kind of crap for your boss all the time. I know how to organise this stuff!”

   I felt an awkward pinch in my joy with the reference to Toby, but I could not let it spoil the moment. I had plenty of research to do on those recent reports from elsewhere in Yellowstone, but that could wait until after the ill-placed celebration.

   “I would love to go for a meal, then.” I said in my most Human voice, but I followed it with a natural Hork-Bajir smile.

   “Good. I’ll arrange it now,” She winked. “How long are you staying here?”

   I looked back to the news crew, then further back to the _Hork-Bajir Homes_ crew. Neither looked particularly busy, but it was not even going dark yet. “I don’t expect to be too long. I will stay for as long as they will and I predict that they’ll get sick of the cold soon. I need to make sure that they don’t bother the locals too much.”

   “I don’t think you need to be so protective.” Clarissa put forward.

   “Perhaps,” I muttered, having thought the same several times over the past few hours. “But I wish for their film content to be dignified. Maybe that’s asking too much of the _Homes_ crew… They did get some good footage of the harvest call, though.”

   That was a call used to indicate that the harvest was sufficient within a Hork-Bajir group. It was essentially the Hork-Bajir equivalent of music: A simplistic drone made up of several complementing notes that lasted about twenty seconds. Something so simplistic and trivial compared to Human or _Hruthin_ music, but seen as tremendously charismatic. It was television gold that apparently endeared us to the Humans, perhaps even more so than our docile and pacifistic nature. (Why? I have no idea, even to this day.)

   A phone rang. I quickly recognised the tune to be from my cell phone. Having no pockets (or clothes at all,) Clarissa would carry it around for me. She reached into the bag settled over her shoulder and fiddled around for the phone with the big rubber casing. Hork-Bajir-claw-proof. She focused on the tiny screen on the front with curiosity, but handed it to me unanswered when she couldn’t decipher the number.

   I couldn’t recognise it, either. Nevetheless, I pressed the little green button to answer and put the phone to my right ear. “Hello?”

   “What are you doing?”

   I was shocked to hear Governor Mitchell’s irritated voice. I certainly hadn’t expected a call from him, but his deep, monotonous voice wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, I felt another swell of confidence, a complete contrast to the last time we had an exchange.

   “Governor? I am doing my duty.”

   “And your duty is… What exactly?” He grumbled. “If your duty is to waste everybody’s time, then you’re doing a damn good job.”

   “Of course!” I replied chirpily. “I’ve wasted so much of your time that you’ve decided to call me and waste some more.”

   A second passed and I could tell that he was groaning to himself. “Kelmut, what did I just see? Is this your rebellion or something? The plans are already in place to get things underway.”

   “I understand that,” I replied, stepping away from Clarissa who loyally understood my need for privacy and went in the opposite direction. “But I have plans of my own. I don’t want you building roads over my people’s land.”

   “And I don’t want you getting in the way of the prosperity of this state. Not that it matters. Nobody will listen to you.”

   I scoffed. “I am a Hork-Bajir _seer_. One of only two. It took me all but five minutes to arrange a state-level segment, even with a… an unfortunate media history.”

   His gears were churning ferociously. I could almost hear it through the phone. Even as I played mind games with somebody so powerful, I felt so empowered and so capable. If only I could translate that to an actual televised debate…

     “I don’t think you want to do this, Kelmut. These plans are going forward, whether you like it or not. Even if we have to bury you with cement.”

   Should I have felt threatened? At the time, I didn’t care. “I want to do this, and I _will_ do this. I hope we talk again soon.”

   And I hung up, ready for a delicious meal.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

   Things changed very quickly. Before the small segment on local news I would spend my time in the Yellowstone offices, answering the phone maybe ten times a day and replying to dull and mandatory emails. Then, I would scurry off home, avoid my people as best I could and sleep until I had to return.

   Everything just exploded, more than I could have ever imagined. I underestimated my own potential among the Human media, for even though my past ventures had nose-dived I was still one of only two Hork-Bajir seers around. With the other one seemingly vanished, that made me even more valuable in their eyes.

   So the mere hint of me taking on the State of Wyoming government quickly garnered attention from across the nation. Ten phone calls turned into a dreadful earache. Dull emails became invites to radio shows and podcasts and local events hosted by those who took our side. I quickly found that I was in danger of being over-booked, even though I was just limiting myself to online things that I could do from my office at the time.

   It was a shock when I came back to the Centre the day after the segment. The place was buzzing with an unrestrained anticipation. There was a sense that something big was coming and everyone suddenly found a hidden bank of motivation. I received congratulations from most that I saw, the others being too hard at work, or so I presumed.

   I admit that I was on quite a high. I couldn’t stop smiling.

   I strolled into the office with my newfound confidence and plonked myself down to inspect my desktop computer. Altogether, there were eighteen invites, via email, to all sorts of different media outlets; I sat back for ten minutes, playing with so many thoughts in my little Hork-Bajir brain.

   After calling several people into the office to gain their opinions, I decided that it was best to let Clarissa decide for me. I trusted her even more than myself and as soon as she arrived, I let her scan through the pile. She mulled it over and picked three out for me. We discussed her choices and settled on two of them. There was a state-wide radio segment hosted by a person who was known as a big Hork-Bajir enthusiast and a popular American podcast run by a non-partisan group that we knew would allow us to get our message across.

   Those were the first of many, but we made sure to start out easy. After those first two appearances, I was still utterly baffled by the attention I had received.

   The segments went okay. I maintained my dignity and my Human voice simultaneously and I wasn’t a trembling mess. However, I was able to make my points without garnering much criticism and had some nice talks with the presenters who were very happy to have me on. The podcast had never interviewed a Hork-Bajir before (which wasn’t surprising,) so most of the questioning was about my lifestyle, which I didn’t mind at all. In fact, Clarissa thought it would endear me to the Humans. It seemed to work.

   So we booked more, accepted more invites. All the while, we watched as support became more vocal. In the space of four days, the story had escalated to the national stage, though it didn’t quite reach the heights of headline news.

   I was amazed at how many came to our cause. There were many from the local area, of course, but then there was support from places so far away that they could never dream of coming to Yellowstone for a day’s trip out.

   Taku Kelmut was becoming a name again and not for the same dreadful reasons as before. Needless to say, there was a lot of scepticism around me, but I made it all about my people instead of myself and that deflected most doubt.

   But every show and every interview would ask the same questions: What happened in your previous interviews? How can we be sure that it won’t happen again?

   And, of course, I wasn’t going to be able to oppose the governor without fightback. I had not spoken to him since, but I could see the signs of his handiwork here and there. Several pundits and journalists would turn up elsewhere, speaking about how I was trying to negatively affect the state economy and deny the citizens new jobs. Nonsense, of course. They tried to make things far too complicated.

   I was going to be seeing a lot more of them soon. I could sense my own urge to confront them emerging beside my confidence.

   I had just finished another podcast. (It was by no means a large one, but Clarissa and I had agreed that any time connecting to people was worth the effort, so the fact that only eight-thousand were watching mattered little. I had been on much smaller the day before.) I sat back in Toby’s old seat and breathed a peaceful sigh, stretching my hunched body outward. My tail was sore, having been sat at my desk all day chatting to total strangers. It felt good, but it equally felt very bad. It was then when my office door opened to Clarissa’s face. She pulled her hand through her hair that had been disturbed by the strong winds outside the building. Desperately, she tried to correct it.

   She was carrying a plastic bag with her, cleverly looped between her fingers that were wrapped around a coffee cup. “Hey, Taku. I’m back. You finished talking to those nerds?”

   “Nerds?” I blinked, swinging my computer chair away from the desk. “They seemed like very nice people. We got along very well!”

   “I didn’t say they were bad people, I said they were nerds,” She replied, dropping the full bag on my desk. “So it went well?”

   “It went very well. They say that they had set their own record for listeners!”

   She smiled and took her seat beside the desk. “Do they support you?”

   I looked up to the ceiling, recalling the discussions. “They seemed to. We only spent a limited time discussing that. They didn’t want to dedicate the full two hours to it.”

   “But you said what you needed to say, right?”

   “I said what I needed to say,” I confirmed. “Now I’m thirsty.”

   Clarissa dutifully reached into the plastic bag on the desk and retrieved the plastic bottle of water she had promised to bring back. I drank from it, but my eyes remained on the bag. Clarissa noticed my attention, and a sly smile spread over her face.

   She pulled out a piece of bark. It was unfamiliar, but it smelled glorious. “Thought I’d treat you,” She said. “For a job well done.”

   I reached forward to receive the bark. I thanked her and let my nostrils inspect it. Ravaged by hunger, I began to eat. “This is delicious!” I commented. “If this is what I get for sitting at a computer talking to moderately popular internet personalities for two hours, I will sit here until I lose the use of my legs.”

   “You can’t sit here all day,” Clarissa told with unusual seriousness. “You need exercise. For the last three days you’ve done nothing but sit in that chair, you know! You’re going to get fat and that won’t look good on you.”

   “I get plenty of exercise.” I huffed, folding my arms.

   Clarissa rolled her eyes. “Walking up and down the stairs to get a drink isn’t enough exercise for a Hork-Bajir!”

   “But I’ve made such progress,” I groaned, turning back to my desktop having finish my lovely bark chunk. “Look at all these emails here. All people who want to interview me, host me, speak to me… I don’t have time to run around like an idiot.”

   She raised her eyebrows and looked away to inspect her fingernails. “Toby always found the time to exercise.”

   “Oh, must you do that?” I grumbled, slumping back into my seat. “Please, Clarissa, this is an important time for me.”

   “I know it is, Taku. But, you know, don’t be ignoring your personal life. Have you seen your family much this week?”

   Suddenly, my petulance fell away and I looked down to my feet. “I guess not. I haven’t had the time to travel back home.”

   “So where have you been sleeping?”

   “There’s a very comfortable tree just a couple hundred yards outside of the building.” I answered sheepishly.

   She exhaled with clear disappointment. “You’re making the same mistake that Toby made a few years ago. She spent too much time in the office and went, like, totally insane! I know things are going well, but you shouldn’t overdo it, you know.”

   “I’ll sleep at home tonight,” I compromised weakly. “Though Mother and Father will make it difficult to head back.”

   She giggled. “That’s probably because they love you, Taku.”

   “Of course, but… I have momentum now. I will do as much as necessary to win favour with the people of this nation. Once I have done that, then I can get back to my people. After all, I’m doing this for them.”

   She smiled and moved forward. She leant against my shoulder to spy upon my emails. Scouring the list, she hummed, impressed. “Hey, there’s quite a few coming in. Any that you really like the look of?”

   “Yes,” I said, reaching a hand forward and scrolling slowly down the email screen. Halfway down the page, I stopped at a read message. The sender was named by email address, but Clarissa oohed when she recognised the organisation named. “That one is national. I can get a message to the national level slowly through local stations, but I can do it instantly through a national broadcast.”

   “Wow! You’re already being offered a spot on national news! That’s great, Taku!” She congratulated.

   I sensed that she wasn’t quite as ecstatic as she made out to be. I cocked my head and looked her in the eyes. “I imagine that you’d be worried about that.”

   She knew that there was no point in hiding it. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled her chair beside mine to sit. “You remember what happened last time…”

   “Yes, I do.”

   “I have to admit that, you know… I’m still not quite sure if it’s good for you. You’ve done really good the last few days, but that was easy stuff. Toby could do all that stuff in her sleep!”

   I grunted, secretly acknowledging to myself the truth that I was congratulating myself over child’s play. “I told you. I’m ready now. I know how to cope with it.”

   She placed a hand on my bicep, a subtle method to ensure that I was listening with full attention. I faced her directly and took all attention away from the screen.

   “You do know that any more crazy shit and I’m banning you from all this?”

   “You have told me that many times these last few days,” I laughed. “I understand that. What more can I do to prove to you that I’m capable? Please, Clarissa,” I pleaded, placing my hand on hers. “Understand that this is what I want to do. This is what I _can_ do. Besides, it is not a debate. It is much like the local report I did the other day. It’s even filmed from the same location. And who knows what will happen then…”

   “You’ll get into arguments again,” She warned, maintaining her grip on my arm and not allowing my focus to wane. “If you’re going to have shouting battles with anybody, start small. Don’t, like, jump in the deep end!”

   I smiled broadly and gripped her hand just a little tightly, warmly. “I want you to help me decide.”

   “Good!” She squeaked, baring her straight, pearly Human teeth.

 

   That night, I relented to Clarissa’s wishes. I made that long sprint home and reached my colony long after the sun had set. Most had fallen asleep, huddled tightly around a warm but dying campfire, settled under a sea of multi-coloured blankets that kept out the bitter wind. I didn’t want to disturb anybody there, since the only ones awake looked readily prepared to doze off at any moment.

   So I ascended my tree, not expecting to find anybody awake. I thought it would be okay for me to just make an appearance, even if it was by presence alone. However, pulling myself into the canopy, I made out the sounds of Mother gently humming to herself. I followed the noise and made myself known. She stopped humming instantly. “Taku! Taku home!” She yelped.

   I cringed. Half of the colony would have woken to that. “Hello, Mother,” I replied, deliberately whispering softly to make her do the same.

   It didn’t work too well. Mother was too excited to be quiet. “Taku is home!” She called merrily. Once I had perched on her branch, she embraced me with a kiss and would not let my head blades go for a good while.

   “You missed me.” I evaluated, allowing her to shower me in affection. Behind us, I heard shuffling.

   “Pok miss Taku Kelmut,” Mother confirmed, pulling herself even closer. “Not see Taku for…” She broke the kiss and stared upwards to the night sky. “Many moons.”

   “Four moons,” I told her. “And I’m sorry. I’ve been very busy with the Humans.”

   Part of me wanted to laugh. I had been gone for much longer periods in the past, but Mother always managed to exaggerate. Not that I minded, because it just reminded me that I meant a lot to her.

   “Taku stay?” She asked, her question unhelpfully vague, but she looked at me pleadingly, face becoming visible as my eyes adjusted to the moonlit tree.

   “I’ll be staying tonight, but I need to go away again tomorrow. Don’t worry, I won’t be gone long.” I reassured.

   She kissed me again and I could sense her holding back what she truly wanted to say. Her pause to think spoke that well enough. “Taku come back soon?”

   “Taku will come back soon.” I replied softly, embracing the new kiss.

   The shuffling noise came again. It was not Father, who I could faintly hear breathing in sleep to our right. In the corner of my eye, I could see Lenk listening in from behind us, still very much awake.

   “Hello, brother.” I greeted quietly.

   Mother turned to him. “Lenk Kelmut need sleep,” She instructed. “Why does Lenk not sleep?”

   He said nothing, wrapped around the branch just a few feet behind us. Perhaps he was exhausted, or alternatively he couldn’t think of anything to say. Maybe both. He retreated back up the tree without returning my greeting.

   It kept me awake all night.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

   She clutched the microphone in her right hand now. The bitter Yellowstone weather was doing its very best to damage her professional demeanour and she stood shin-deep in the snow. Not even the thick, fake-fur-lined boots that cosied her ankles could protect her from the winter temperature, not that she would mention it mid-interview. I felt sorry for her up until the point where I realised that I was totally naked, as I always had been. But then, Hork-Bajir are much more capable of dealing with low temperatures. I don’t know how. We just are.

   Though she wouldn’t let it threaten the manner of the occasion, she did point it out subtely: “I’ve seen a lot of the new structures, and we can actually see some of it now,” She spoke, gesturing to the trees behind us where my people worked on a low-level platform. “How do they cope with these weather conditions? They don’t seem to stop whatever weather comes in!” She pulled at her shoulder-length, oak-brown hair with a thick blue woollen glove, her interview smile never quite fading.

   “I wouldn’t know from experience,” I began, holding my microphone close to my snout. “But it is well known that weather cycles on our homeworld are very similar, maybe even more extreme than that seen here. That’s why our structures are so strong and secure. They need to withstand strong winds.”

   She grinned and nodded as I expected. “I thought you’d be freezing in bare feet!”

   I pulled one from the depths of the snow. I doubted the cameras would catch image that far down, though. Maybe they did. “It is cold, but a nice campfire will warm me later. Though this is not my home area, I will be staying with this group for the night. They made a great campfire.”

   We had been talking for a while, having covered most of the main points that the media required. The new off-topic conversation was going a little far, and she veered us back. “This area of trees here… Where this new school is being constructed is where a road is going to be built, if the plans go ahead. Now, a lot of people a few years back would say that that simply wouldn’t happen! Yellowstone has been protected land since the 1800’s and nobody ever saw that changing. But now the State government is aiming to remove the protection status through federal court and will begin construction of a super highway if the ruling is made. My question is: Are they building in an attempt to interrupt those plans?!”

   I shook my head, feigning innocence. “I think it’s unlikely that the park’s status will even be removed, Carly. My people know very little about it, other than the fact that some of their homes would be lost. They are fearful of that, because though we live a relatively peaceful life here, there are still many issues with regard to species integration. By far the majority of Humans are very kind and respectful, but as you know, there are also those who would want to hurt us. A close friend of mine was murdered recently. I saw it happen, but we never identified the murderers. Not only that, but the dangers that Human activities pose is something that we want to avoid. There is a Hork-Bajir stuck in a hospital with most bones in his lower body smashed from a collision with a van. My people have no concept of road safety and I don’t think there is enough money around to put them all through classes. To clearly answer your question though: No. As far as I know, they are building these platforms here because of the conditions of the trees and the close proximity to the river.”

   “Well, some people have suggested that you have asked them to build here, since you know where the highway will be built.”

   “Some people have also suggested that we are lizard people bringing a new world order,” I grinned, pleased at my own comparison. “My people made the decision before I had even arrived in this part of the park for the first time.”

   “So you didn’t have any influence on the position at all?” She pressed for a clear answer.

   I gave her one. “Not at all.”

   Another lie wouldn’t hurt, would it?

   She pulled her lips again to form a wide smiles and nodded her head forward. “Well, I hope the construction goes well, as well as your campaign.”

   “Thank you Carly.” I said, returning to her a smile of my own.

   “And thanks to you, too, Taku,” She turned away to face the camera. “This has been Carly Willis reporting for CNN with Taku Kelmut from Yellowstone National Park. Back to the studio!”

   The three cameras remained on for a few seconds before we were confirmed to be off-air. Then the pack-up began. Carly Willis, the controversial commentator who had come all this way to talk to me shuddered, now allowing the cold to bring about a reaction. “Wow! Ooh it’s so cold up here. I can’t wait to get back to that hotel.”

   “The temperature drops very low here, but it’s glorious in the Summer months,” I replied. “Even with the cold temperature, I thought that went pretty well.”

   She had given her microphone and various other equipment to one of her assistants. Now she was rubbing her gloves together and pulling her hat further down her head and pulling her coat zipper right to the very top. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve had worse interviews. I remember interviewing some Andalite official a few years back about Human use of Andalite-made weed killer. God it was boring, and that guy was such a smug asshole. I hate those guys!”

   “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting one.” I informed, trying not to hint my lack of eagerness to do so.

   “You aren’t missing much,” She huffed, standing from her foldaway chair and adjusting her cold feet in the snow. “Well, thanks Mr Kelmut.”

   “Taku,” I interrupted. “ Please call me Taku.”

  “Taku. It’s been a pleasure, and I would stay longer but I don’t want to die of pneumonia.”

   I laughed, finding that I was now almost instinctively attempting a Human laugh. I noticed her cringe slightly. “I understand. It has been an honour meeting you, Ms Willis. I’ve read many of your works. I admire those who are as firm in their political stances as you are.”

   She laughed, finally looking me in the eyes again. “Why, thank you, Taku. I would say the same, but I’ve never seen any articles. Something to come?”

   “Yes,” I nodded. “As you know, I’m new to this game.”

   Her eyes narrowed and she looked to me curiously. “Not that new…”

   Of course, she hadn’t yet brought up my previous interviews. Most people tended to avoid the subject. “I wasn’t ready back then. Things are different now.”

   Carly wasn’t totally convinced. I could see that in her puzzling eyes, but she said, “Sure,” and nodded to avoid contrasting opinions.

   I could see Clarissa in the corner of my eye, stood by a nearby tree, itching to give me my post-interview preen. She could wait a little longer, as could the camera crew. “Ms Willis, where are you based? I hope you don’t mind me asking.”

   She didn’t. “LA, but I have family based in New York. Why?”

   Just as I had researched. “Oh? I may be in New York soon! It’s possible that I’ll be on a FOX news panel in a couple weeks’ time to discuss this issue further.”

   “Really?” She added.

   “Hopefully. If you’re in town, maybe it would be nice to go for a meal somewhere. I’m sure we could discuss the latest events.”

   That last line was the clincher. I was hoping that the promise of more knowledge on a topic going nationwide would tug at her interest.

   She smiled again and it seemed genuine enough. “Sure, Taku. I’ll be around.”

   It was a very pleasing moment for me. It was such a pity when it was ruined. A rumbling, creaking noise filled the air from behind us. I swivelled my neck in time to see the newest section of platforms being built in the trees behind us crumpled into themselves, cracked and with a series of loud bangs snapped from their supporting trees and tumbled into the snow below. Several Hork-Bajir heads popped out from the trees above, quick to move in and inspect the damage.

   “Strong and secure structures…” Carly tutted.

   I tried to hide my embarrassment, but all I could utter was, “Perhaps they’re having an off-day.”

   As I turned away to curse my own luck, I saw that Clarissa had made her way over. She stepped up to me and immediately started to inspect my claws. I let her without hesitation.

   Carly was pursing her lips, something she wanted to ask trying to get through. It beat her. “Between you and me… You didn’t plan this?”

   My honest Hork-Bajir brain craved to be honest, but that would only serve as a detriment. “I didn’t. Mistakes happen, but my people learn quickly from their mistakes.”

   She smiled. Maybe she believed me. Maybe she didn’t. “Okay, Taku,” She hummed, turning on her big black boots. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

   She joined her camera crew and I was happy to take a breather with Clarissa. We wandered to the nearest tree and I sliced off the nicest bark I could see while Clarissa did her chores. I was eager to help with the damage from the fallen platform, but I got the feeling that Clarissa wanted to tell me something. I munched contentedly on my bark, waiting.

   Thankfully, she smiled when she decided that she could spare some attention away from my arm blades. “So, _Mr Kelmut_ , I have good news! While you were chatting to your new girlfriend, I got a call.”

   I gulped down whatever bark I had in my mouth. “Oh? Who from? And what do you mean by _new girlfriend!?_ ”

      “I saw you chatting her up,” Clarissa laughed nudging my side with her elbow and showing that sly look that Humans use when they believe they’ve figured out something secretive. “You invited her for a meal! In New York! You know, the whole different species thing is a bit weird, but, like, I’m thinking I shouldn’t judge.”

   I shook my head urgently. “That was not what I intended at all! I think you’ve either gotten the wrong idea entirely or you’re trying to play a game with me.”

   She had stopped laughing, but she was still highly amused. “Care to explain to me what you were doing, then?”

   I grumbled and folded my arms. “I am trying to build contacts, Clarissa.”

   She snorted. “Contacts?! With that Carly… _Whatserface_?! Isn’t she that reporter that called the President a terrorist and got everybody pissed?”

   “Toby has a notebook full of influential people that she has met over the years. So far, it has been very useful to me, but now I think I need to start doing it myself. Even if she is controversial, she is on my side of this issue and I want her as an ally.”

   Clarissa sighed, which frustrated me further. “You can be just as stubborn as Toby, that’s for sure.” She proceeded to tap my left arm, asking for me to unfold them. I relented and let the issue slip by. It was nothing to argue about.

   “I just hope she doesn’t begin spreading rumours that I requested that these platforms be built here.” I murmured, staring over at the wreckage nearby where my people were starting to salvage what they could.

   Now Clarissa was the one to look annoyed. She had finished inspecting me and stood back to get better eye contact. “You did, Taku.”

   “I know I did. But nobody knows that other than you, me and the locals here.”

   “And what happens when some news reporter decides to ask one of the locals about who told them to build this here?”

   I smiled and sliced of some more bark from the tree behind me. “Don’t worry. I thought about that.”

   Clarissa had her hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow, expecting more detail.

   “If they get asked, they’ll say that they need a new school.”

   She seemed confused by my confidence. “Uh, Taku. The second somebody asks who ordered this…”

   “They won’t say it was me,” I chimed. “I told them that it was not me who wanted it.”

   Her look of cynicism didn’t disappear. In fact, it grew. “So who did you tell them _did_ want those new platforms here?!”

   “Themselves.”

   She shook her head and gazed briefly to the ground in disbelief. “And they bought that?”

   “Well, it did confuse them,” I recalled, rubbing my snout. “But they accepted it and now they believe it.”

   “You lied to them.”

   “Please, Clarissa,” I spoke gently, dropping the slab of bark I held, understanding that it might be a while before I could snack on it. “I’m doing this for them. Sure, I lied, but I’m doing it to protect them. When the highway plans go ahead, they won’t care whose homes are here, the state government is going to cover this place in concrete. Maybe this isn’t the best way to stop that, but I’m doing every little thing I can to get me closer to victory. Tell me, what would Toby do in this situation?”

   Her angered look was still very present, but I felt that I was winning her over. “I guess she would do something similar… But who said she was always right, huh?”

   I grinned and bounced on my feet to celebrate the little victory. It brought a chuckle from my disapproving supervisor.

   “I’ll tell you one thing that she never did, though,” Clarissa said sternly to bring me back down to the ground. “She never took advantage of her own people. I’m still struggling to, you know, accept that.”

   “Pluk? You know that I spent plenty of time considering that,” I replied. Convincing her on this point was becoming tiresome, even though I still had some deep inner doubts. “A Hork-Bajir is in hospital with injuries from a road accident. It’s a perfect example to use when we’re trying to stop them building a road here! And besides, what’s going to happen? I’ve already made sure that the hospital doesn’t get swarmed by the media. He’s off-limits, and as soon as he has recovered he’ll be back home in the park where, as far as most Humans are concerned, he’ll just be another Hork-Bajir.”

   “Yeah, I get that. I still don’t like it.” She shrugged. It was clear that she had lost the motivation to carry the argument further.

   I sighed. Though I understood that there would always disagreements, I hated to deal with them, especially with Clarissa. “I know, and I understand.”

   “Whatever,” She huffed, releasing her arms and rubbing her hands together to gain some warmth. “When it all comes to bite you in the ass, I’ll be there to make sure you don’t screw more things up.”

   I grinned. “Nothing will screw up. You just wait and see, Human.”

   We started walking, slowly making our way over to the wreckage that my people were steadily clearing up. We made sure not to get in the way, and wandered off to the side where we could survey the area but not be overheard in our discussions. Even with the little disagreements and the name-calling that was becoming more and more frequent, Clarissa was still my closest friend. At least, the closest friend who understood most of the things that I said. I could tell her anything and expect an honest response, good or bad. I remembered initially finding her bluntness to be off-putting and repellent. Later, I considered it to be one of her better traits. Hardly different from Hork-Bajir bluntness, but with Human cynicism and judgement throw in.

   “You’ve become such a politician,” She giggled as we came to the end of a conversation about the redecoration of my office at the Yellowstone Centre. “Dear god, Taku, the colour of your walls shouldn’t be such a big issue, you know! We don’t need to have a vote!”

   “I think it’s only fair. How does that make me a politician?”

   “I don’t know… It’s just, like, everything you say sounds so formal. And bullshit.”

   I smiled. “Surely not everything. And that doesn’t make me a politician.”

   “It does,” She contradicted. “What’ve you been reading? I keep seeing you reading stuff on your lunch breaks.”

   “Oh, those? They’re nothing, really. Just some of Toby’s old books. Some other ones.” I mumbled, secretly rather embarrassed by the content of my own personal library.

   “Politics for Dummies?” She grinned knowingly.

   “You’ve looked through my books.”

   “Of course I have. Why wouldn’t I?”

   I grunted and hoisted my snout upwards. “Privacy, perhaps?”

   “I don’t get it, Taku,” She spoke, totally ignoring my displeasure. “Why would you want to be a politician?”

   “Wouldn’t I be one if I became the Governor for my people?”

   She looked upwards and then decided to change the question. “Why would you want to be _like_ a politician? Nobody likes those guys!”

   “They like Toby.” I countered instantly.

   “Yeah, because she’s a war hero,” Clarissa pointed out. “You realise that there have been people trying to assassinate her before?”

   “I realise that, yes, but that isn’t entirely down to policy. She is not corrupt and that is why she is much more favourable than the average politician.”

   “To most people, yeah,” Clarissa said with a warning implication. “But not everyone.”

   “Enough.” I concluded.

   Her expression changed. It bore the look that she would usually give when she wanted to get me to think about something a little more deeply than it was. “You honestly think that acting like a politician is going to make people like you more?”

   Admittedly, phrasing it in such a way made me reconsider. Even I, after my brief spell on the periphery of politics, had grown a distrust and often outright dislike of the majority of politicians. Slumping, I almost physically accepted defeat. “I just… Maybe I feel that acting in such a way allows me access to more influential people. I think that is essential.”

   “Yeah,” She nodded. “It probably is. Act like some asshole politician when you’re with the politicians. Be yourself when you’re around normal people. I prefer normal Taku and I’ve been told that I’m, like, a good judge of character!”

   “I trust your judgement. And I hate when you make me question myself.”

   She giggled. “It’s my job, I guess.”


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

   Clarissa certainly did have good news. In fact, it was excellent news. Things were really beginning to move forward in our plan to maintain the park’s status as a reserve and making several appearances on a national stage would really be a boost to public awareness.

   We had secured three major slots on widely broadcasted networks at peak times. I was a little sceptical of viewing figures at first, but having gone to my office later to do my research, it became apparent very quickly that it truly was the height of what could be attained. People were really beginning to take notice of our story and that was largely down to the Yellowstone team that had worked day and night to nag anybody in any sort of position they could find. The general curiosity of the population toward our people was also incredibly helpful, especially with Toby still missing. We had been in the headlines already for quite some time. In some ways, Toby’s disappearance was a blessing.

   I hated to admit it, but her disappearance had not only kept our people in the headlines as the searches and investigations continued (for which I had already been questioned several times), but it also served to elevate my own status. Despite inexperience, previous mistakes and lack of public appearances, I was seen more and more as the representative of my people as the days dripped by. It was the perfect time to capitalise.

   My efforts had doubled after Clarissa gave me the good news. I took more time away from my family and friends to push onwards, securing a huge number of smaller public events. I was on at least three a day, ranging from local network interviews at the Yellowstone centre to radio show call-ins. I managed to find the log-in information for Toby’s own blog, a website unambitiously named _Hamee’s Blog_ and began posting there. A simple, mindless blog post about what my favourite bark post on that site would fetch thousands of views alone! Within five posts, people had gotten over the initial shock and began to accept that I was the closest thing to a suitable placement in Toby’s absence.

   With Clarissa’s help. I connected it to Twitter, to Facebook… To everything I could. Toby’s YouTube channel, previously a bland shelf-piece with six two-hour-plus political debate recordings, was given a total makeover and I tried to update it daily, even if the video was a twenty-second rant about a broken photocopier.

   I was quickly establishing myself in the public sphere. Everything that was Toby’s was suddenly mine, including all the platforms she used to chant from.

   Of course, this brought in criticism. My trivialisation of her social networks was seen as immature, an unpleasant blemish on her personal, more formal spaces. However, it was not as if everything I did was that way. I kept most of it at usual standard, especially blog posts where I would usually post updates about the media projects within the park and anything important with regard to the park’s status. The most daunting criticism I had to face was the accusation of incapability. My previous showings on live television were still, and forever would be, a mark upon my reputation. No matter how wonderful my latest post, how relevant my latest tweet, how persuasive my last radio discussion, those interviews would be the first images in peoples’ heads at the mention of my name.

   That was very unfortunate, but I had to move along.

   With the good news, of course, bad news wasn’t too far behind. Increased tensions between the Humans and the Andalites was increasing motivations for xenophobic actions from certain groups. With the Andalites trying to force the Humans’ hand in the war with the Kelbrid race by increasing military activity on the planet, more and more Humans were voicing their want for resistance. This complicated, confusing mess was quickly getting out of hand, and though we Hork-Bajir were not involved in the conflict directly, the xenophobic groups were using the situation as ammunition against any and all extra-terrestrial races.

   Security at the park was heightened when threats were made against my people. The state governor and I put aside our differences briefly to discuss the options to better protect both Humans and Hork-Bajir at the park. I was told that my own activity needed to be cut so that I wasn’t in any immediate danger. As the new face of the Hork-Bajir, I was seen as the most vulnerable to attack. That scared me.

   But there had been no major incidents. The plans seemed to be working and my people were alert to the situation. I felt relatively assured that any major disasters would be avoided.

   There was one little issue still on my mind, however: If the Human and Andalite alliance ended – hopefully no war would be involved, because it would likely be very one-sided – where would that leave my people? Our residence on Earth was largely due to a contract written up by the Andalite/Human alliance. If that ended, what would happen to us?

   An issue for another day. I would have to do some research, probably later in the day. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I continued with my normal work.

   I had just concluded an appearance on yet another internet podcast. This one was much bigger than the last, watched by multiple thousands. Overjoyed at the response and support that I had received, I kicked back in my big office chair and let my head lie back to look at the ceiling. The bare, white ceiling.

   Licking at my lips and gulping to revive my throat after three hours of utilising my much-improved Human voice, I felt the need for change. The office was dull, impersonal. Toby’s office next door was filled with plant life that was still being maintained, photographs and posters and… just general colour and intrigue. It would make my online discussions far more bearable.

   After a stretch and a worry about my fitness after three days of office work, I pulled myself to my feet and gained a general overview of what needed to be done. Firstly, I needed some green around the walls. The plants in Toby’s office were missing an owner, surely…

   Stepping out onto the open floor, the sounds of bustling and keyboard tapping rush up to me both lower and upper levels. Nobody noticed my emergence, since my floor was almost deserted and I was almost blocked from view to anybody else. Not that it mattered. I moved a few feet along, bobbing my head to my own cheerful beat and opened up Toby’s office. Thankfully, the room was still being cared for by the cleaners, so it hadn’t been falling into disrepair. It was a simple chore, then, to relocate whatever I felt needed it. Potted plants were the first objects, of course. And since the room dimensions were almost identical, the task of delegating space was no issue whatsoever.

   A few other objects followed, such as her tree-shaped clock, her multi-coloured paper clips and her novelty spaceship figurine. While searching through her drawers, I found her Earth Diary. I didn’t expect it to be so big, but I put it aside for reading at a less busy time. I was sure that she wouldn’t mind.

   I thought that I had the finished project. Everything was moved that I thought needed to be moved. I bounced from door to door, peeking my head in to see exactly what was missing…

   The photos framed on the walls! Of course, how could I forget?

   Photos with Toby on them? I could take her plants, take her chair and take her spaceship, but I couldn’t pretend that those photos were mine. They encircled the room, each one more inspiring than the last. They all depicted Toby in some way, either a governor headshot before an American flag or a photograph of her with famous faces, shaking hands or standing side-by-side as equals. I found it ever so strange that no matter who she stood beside, how smartly they were dressed, how astute their aura, she would always appear more formal and more dignified. How strange that a naked tree dweller could do such against a species’ that was well-known for their ability to pull off a smart appearance. Maybe that was just my own personal bias.

   I didn’t have any framed photos of my own. My cheerful mood was rudely obstructed by the revelation and I concluded that it was time to head back to my own incomplete office. I flicked off Toby’s light and closed the door, skulking back to my own.

   It was as if I had returned to sobriety. The world around me became unfazed and the fact of Toby’s earned properties became so obvious and unavoidable. When I stood in my doorway and looked into my office, I didn’t see it. Toby’s things lay everywhere, a cheap disguise to coat my bland walls.

   I sighed. I was just being self-critical as always. All I wanted was colour for the room, something other than plastic white and beige carpeting.

   I took my place back in my seat and pulled close the computer to relieve my troubled mind. It was open on my Facebook page, my own post from three hours ago about a new radio appearance at the top of the page, having garnered multiple new comments. The first knocked me.

   _You’re no Toby Hamee._

   It was so cruelly placed and suddenly my mind whizzed frantically, picking at my confidence like a group of vultures. I needed a moment to relax, to compose myself and regain whatever feelings I had prior. I closed the laptop and rolled my eyes upwards. I looked directly into Toby’s piercing eyes as she leaned over the front of my desk.

   I shrieked and flung myself and my chair backwards, the sudden appearance taking sharp advantage of my state.

   And then I realised that it was just a fern. I had put the potted plant in front of my desk just a minute ago.

   I rubbed at my face as I rolled back into my seat. Sometimes I feared for my own sanity, the abrupt delusions forever stabbing at my psyche. It was gone, so maybe some activity was in order. Sitting up straight, I opened the laptop fully as I decided to do the first blog post of the new week. I had plenty to update the followers on and my last three posts were brief opinions on my favourite plants and trees. I owed them a little more this time.

   The light-blue background of Toby’s blog page popped up and I followed the links to begin writing the next message.

_Dear followers,_

_It’s been a very busy couple of weeks. My last update perhaps didn’t explain enough about the depth and thoroughness of the duties I had to fulfil with the film crews and reporters in Yellowstone. Hopefully you have seen some of the interviews in the news cycles or on YouTube! I thought they went pretty well, but I suppose that it’s not up to me to decide that…_

_Aside from those interviews, I’ve also had to do a lot of micromanagement. As I am still working with the Yellowstone media department, I have done a lot of escorting and supervision for all those film crews. There seem to be more and more each day, which is very good! It means that our cause is gaining traction. At this point, I’d like to thank you all again from the bottom of my hearts for your support on behalf of all Hork-Bajir._

_But things will change for a week. I’ll be handing my duties over to the other staff at the Yellowstone Center. The reason is simple and wonderful: I’m going to New York!_

   (I left an emoticon of a smiling face after that sentence. It was a bad habit that I was beginning to perform instinctively.)

   _My supervisor came to me with this great news the other day. I will be on national TV on no fewer than three occasions! These occasions will be at peak time as well, somewhere between 5PM and 7PM on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, first week of March. Maybe I’ll get some more air time here or there, but I am assured that those three interviews will go ahead._

_I’m very excited to see New York! Not only for those interviews. I want to see some major landmarks, which of course means that I need to do some pleading at the feet of the numerous people that decide where I am permitted to go. Unfortunately, my blades can be quite a hindrance. If I am allowed to visit some places though, I’ll be sure to meet people, so please come along and say hello! I don’t bite!_

_It will also be interesting to visit the establishment where Toby once got arrested for intoxication. I still find that story very funny._

_So that’s the big news. Maybe it will be of great help to our cause. Everything seems to be going well so far, though I have not come across any major opposition. Nor have I heard much… anything from the Wyoming State Government. That’s very curious. I thought they would be attacking from all sides. Perhaps they have nothing to attack, and from what I’ve seen, the majority is on our side. We don’t want the park split by concrete and metal!_

_But even if they do come, I will do everything in my power to stop them. I have a little more power these days, so hopefully my new place as “pseudo-representative” – is that a good way to put it? I’m not so sure – will give me the voice I need to make a difference. There is nothing I won’t do to maintain the homes of my people._

_Hopefully I’ll see some of you in New York. Or maybe you could come visit Yellowstone. Remember to book tickets early for some of the big events we have coming up, because they go very quickly! See you there!_

  * _Taku K_



   I was happy with the new entry, so I clicked submit. The typing space vanished and the post dropped onto a blue background at the top of the homepage. Now I could wait for comments to roll in for a general consensus of opinions. I didn’t feel ready to tackle another file full of paperwork. I’d seen the _Hork-Bajir Homes_ logo enough today that it made me feel sick just glancing at it.

   Perhaps I could start putting things together to take to New York. Not that there was much in my room to take, and I was far past the idea of taking Toby’s things now. I pulled open a big drawer to my right where I kept travel documents. As a Hork-Bajir, I didn’t have passports or anything like that. What I had was more specific to extra-terrestrials and there was an awful lot of it. Piece by piece, I pulled out the bits that I needed and started to put them into a big pile beside my laptop.

   The last piece I required was my travel security certificate, a big laminated piece of paper complete with photo and details of who I was and where I was permitted to travel under supervision. It was not very interesting, but what I brushed a finger against beneath it was. It was the wooden feel of a small luxury photo frame.

   I retrieved it and turned the case over. The picture was instantly familiar, a perfect shot of myself with Mother and Father. It was the same picture that I had broken on a previous trip. How long had it been in the drawer? Clarissa had obviously put it in there expecting me to find it. I never took that much care when placing travel documents back in their place, so I had missed it.

   My eyes drifted to the travel security certificate. Then I dropped it onto the pile, but I kept hold of the photo frame, my focus barely removed.

   I had something to fill the empty space on the wall.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

   “Joining us in studio, all the way from Yellowstone National Park, is Taku Kelmut, volunteer at the Yellowstone Centre.”

   Cal Hudson, the straight-black-haired host, smiled to me, teeth as white as the cotton shirt that sat neatly behind a black suit and blue tie. He read from his mental script and so I had to read from mine. Wearing no clothes (having refused a black cloth that was offered), I could not match his attire, but I could equal his political smile and eye contact with the cameras that faced me.

   “Good evening, Cal. I hope you are well!”

   New York. A leathery stool surrounded by lights, cameras and big TV personalities. Red, white and blue studios with busy backrooms, Humans in suit-and-tie. I had never been in a building with so many floors and so drowned in miles and miles of city landscape. At least, nothing to this degree. It was the centre of everything and I was now a part of it. Main stage, an audience of millions. My hearts had perhaps covered as many beats since the second the cameras were switched on.

   “I’m great, I’m great. You know, it’s quite a momentous occasion for me. Well, for the whole news station in a way!” He chuckled, lifting both hands into the air to signify the entire studio. “I mean, we’ve had Andalites here before a couple times, though they never came to _my_ show. But you’re the first Hork-Bajir to appear on the network and the first, uh, extra-terrestrial on my show. It’s daunting!”

   It was hard to force a smile for that, but I did anyway. “I’m very glad to be making history in some way.”

   I had been doing my research on this host since the day I knew I would be on his panel. He seemed agreeable for the most part, though he was prone to talk over guests that he disagreed with. I didn’t know his position with regard to extra-terrestrials, so with a segment titled “Martian Matters” I really didn’t know what side he would be on. What a strange title for the day’s segment, too… None of the extra-terrestrials in the news at the time were from Mars. I suppose the alliteration was what mattered.

   The other Human male, however, I could not research. I didn’t know he’d be joining us until earlier in the day. That was very confusing to me and equally frustrating. He was a short man with black, thinning hair atop his head. His smile was inviting, his clothes almost as perfect as Cal’s.

   So it was two neat, slick Humans and me, the big space lizard. No wonder Toby avoided panel shows.

   Cal Hudson turned to the new Human. “And also joining us is Danny Davies, columnist for the New York Times and Author of the book _Our Big Alien Family: Setting Household Rules_.”

   “Good to be back.” Danny replied. Given his name, I started to recall instances where he had popped up to me. I had never read his book, nor paid attention to his past statements, assuming he had any of note. The title of his book, however, offered some indication of what position he would take.

   “Now that’s an interesting book and we’ll be discussing issues that you cover in there,” Cal said, bringing us towards an opening discussion with a much more casual tone, as per usual in his show format. It was something that I particularly liked about it, “But first, I gotta ask you, Taku…”

   We both swivelled in our seats to face each other. I had quickly mastered my stool. It was a lot easier to turn than anything I’d sat on previously. I almost had to grab the desk to stop myself spinning full circle. Thankfully, the two Humans were safe from spinning, tumbling blades. I noticed in my research that the two guests would normally sit beside each other on the left side of the inverted V-shape desk. This time, I was on a side of my own, while the Humans sat together. I presumed it to be a safety precaution. A stool accident could turn out very costly, otherwise.

   Cal continued, even as my mind drifted to yet another useless tangent. He had stopped mid-sentence to look amused and cough a single snigger. “That can’t be your real voice, can it?”

   I laughed, albeit my Human laugh (or my best attempt.) “My voice? Yes, this is my voice.”

   “Well I wasn’t suggesting that we were overdubbing,” Cal chuckled. “It’s just that you sound a lot more Human than I anticipated.”

   “I go through a lot of vocal training,” I explained. “The Hork-Bajir mouth and throat apparatus was built for speech, but it doesn’t make a sound as clear as a Human’s does. My supervisor thought that it would be best if I sounded as clear as possible, especially if I’m on TV, so she has helped me train my voice. Does it sound okay?”

   He nodded. “I think it sounds great! It was just a shock to me because I’d seen your previous interviews and you sound totally different now.”

   Of course he had seen my previous interviews. Everybody had. I tried to hide my pain with a continued smile. “I have changed a lot since then.”

   “And you’ve been busy, too.” Cal said. “I heard you on my car radio last week. You’re here in New York to get your message across. It must be quite a culture shock!”

   “It is,” I nodded. “New York is so big! I’ve been to a few cities before. Cheyenne mostly, the capitol of Wyoming because it’s close to home. New York is… something so different,” I explained, lifting my arms in a depiction of size. “But I love it. I hope to see more, but my chances are limited because I can’t freely walk the streets. Bladed arms and legs can be debilitating in that sense.”

   “Well it hasn’t stopped you coming here tonight.”

   “I’m thankful for that,” I grinned. “And there is hope that I can see more.”

   “I’m sure you will,” Cal finalised, turning in his rotating chair to bring Danny Davies into the fold. “Danny, what do you think Taku would like most of all in New York, as part of our big alien family?”

   Danny grinned jovially. “As part of our big alien family, Cal, I think he’ll find that New Yorkers themselves are the best thing about this place. I think it’s great to have him here I think it shows the amazing progress we’re making.”

   Still unsure about Danny’s intentions, I listened closely. That repeated mentions of his book title and his appraisal of the citizens of such a large number of people gave me a good idea.

   He followed, “It’s been just over a decade now since we discovered alien life. Nobody really knew what the first encounter would be like. We always fantasised about it, whether we would have the whole “we come in peace” thing or if it would be more like _Independence Day_. Turns out we got something in the middle of those extremes. We’ve never really known what is going to happen with our relationships between all the different races, Hork-Bajir and Andalites in particular.”

   Cal butted in to herd Danny towards the crux of the speech. “To see Taku here shows us that our people are becoming closer.”

   “Precisely!” Danny cheered. “We can sit down as an alien family to discuss issues close to us. I think, for too long, everyone has kept their distance, you know? Yeah, Toby Hamee was an important connection, but she stayed away from people most of the time. She did what she could for her race, which I can’t fault her for, but there was always a division. Taku,” He addressed directly. I leaned forward. “I think it’s great that you’re here tonight because it’s something Toby never really did.”

   I didn’t know whether to defend Toby or not. Right or wrong, I had little choice but to agree that our races’ connection was essential. “I think we should embrace closeness,” I agreed. “Maybe it’s that lack of closeness that is causing tension between Humans and Andalites,” I stopped myself for the briefest of moments. I couldn’t be seen hypothesising on the relationships of races outside of my own. “Maybe. I don’t really have a position to comment on that.”

   Cal picked up on that. Curious, perhaps, on my sudden retraction. “In ways, it is relevant though. If the Andalites were to cut ties with Earth, that might leave the Hork-Bajir stranded. It’s them who are trying to fix your homeworld and they have the transportation.”

   Well, there was little escaping from the little hole I had dug now. I leaned my head slightly to the side and stared to the ceiling as if hoping to find the best answer written on the set railings. “It’s a very complicated situation. In the end, I hope that we can all come together and form an agreement that works for everyone. We would very much like our home back, and we have a lot to be thankful for. The Humans have lent us a wonderful temporary home, and the Andalites spent three years freeing our planet from Yeerks after the war was over and are still in the process of returning it to a more hospitable state.”

   That was okay, I guess. I smiled a little to myself.

   “It would be a shame to see you leave,” Danny chimed in. “I’ve been to Yellowstone a few times since the Hork-Bajir arrived to research for my book and I’ve never felt more welcomed!”

   “It would be a sad leave,” I nodded. “But we can’t live on an overdue volcano forever…”

   Cal laughed. “I’m sure that’s not the reason you were put there!”

   I shrugged and smiled facetiously. What else could I do?

   Now was time to move onto the main focus of the segment, since the niceties were out of the way. Cal moved us along, bringing back his sober expression.  “Okay, so Taku, as we all know, there has been a lot of talk about removing the national park status of Yellowstone. At first it was kinda laughed off but now it appears that it’s a serious proposition. What would this mean to your people, if Yellowstone was no longer a national park?”

   I cleared my throat, eager to give my basic answer. “It would mean a lot of things, mostly bad for us, but also bad for Humans. As you know, without a reserve status, the park will no longer be protected from Human intervention. The whole point of a reservation is that it stays as natural as possible. Without that status, highways can be built there, or convenience stores. Towns, cities. People will have free reign to do what they like there, within federal or state law. That presents a number of problems. Firstly and I think most obvious, it will bring our peoples into direct contact. We already have that, but Humans come in as tourists, and after Toby’s proposal in 2007, those tourists also go through big security checks before they can enter. I have nothing against our peoples meetings as friends and acquaintances, but there are many Humans out there who want to hurt us who will then get easy access to us if they no longer had to go through those checks.

   “Secondly, there is a reason that Yellowstone is kept as a reserve: it’s a place of natural beauty. There are endangered species’, wonderful natural landscapes. There aren’t too many places like this in the world on such a scale. To mark that over such a temporary dispute would be, I think, a disaster!

   “And then there is the issue of where my people will live. If these plans go ahead, our home will shrink and shrink over time. The economic incentives to the state could mean that there is big demand to build on this land and that will push us away. No matter what anybody says, no matter how much our peoples love and care for and respect each other, we cannot integrate. The challenges and changes that would arise from that would be impossible to overcome. We would have a mass emigration. I don’t know where, but all we would do is spread the problem to another part of the world. It would solve nothing and my people would be put in danger.”

   That was as basic as I could put it, and those were only the three key points. I sat quiet, letting them realise that my detailing was done. Danny was nodding, but his jolly smile from earlier had been lost.

   “It really is a big problem,” He concurred. “And I know where a lot of it comes from. There are people out there, in our society and everywhere on this planet who don’t accept aliens in their lives. Well… Not… Not even _in_ their lives! They don’t even wanna hear about them! I think that’s why the Andalites always keep some distance. And it’s why extra security was put in at Yellowstone! It’s a sad, sad fact that some people are so xenophobic! Taku, how old are you?!

   It was a question I didn’t expect, and maybe that was obvious from my double-take on camera. “Oh, my age? I’m two years old, three this Summer.”

   “Wow.” Cal Hudson interjected.

   Danny shook his head, laughing with amused disbelief. “Two?! My granddaughter can barely say _dada_ and you’re talking politics on national TV! I think that’s amazing!”

   Hork-Bajir don’t blush in the same way that Humans do, so maybe the viewing audience didn’t notice it on my face.

   He continued. “But, Taku, even at such a young age, have you ever witnessed any of these hooligans? Those guys who stand outside Yellowstone boundaries chanting how much they hate the _Zeeb_ s and the _Poker_ s?”

   Zeebs and Pokers, derogatory titles for Hork-Bajir and Andalites, respectively.  Humans often made derogatory slang for other, disfavoured groups as I had learnt. Zeebs was short, I believe, for Beelzebub, after a prominent anti-Hork-Bajir hate group claimed we were born of the devil. The Andalite one was said to work in two ways: They would often “poke” the Human establishments with big promises and military might to sway political decisions, but more often it described how they kept good poker faces when it came to keeping secrets from the Human population. I suspected that the lack of a mouth played a big part in that.

   “Of course I have,” I replied. “But I have also seen the violence they can bring. I have seen injured people, visited the families of those killed in terrorist attacks.”

   Danny nodded. “I think we’ve all seen it. There are more people like that than some people might think! I think one of the best ways to tackle this problem is the same way that we treat other fears, because, let’s face it; it’s probably the _fear of the unknown_ factor that’s causing a lot of this! We need to educate people. Just like how we teach about different religions in schools and how we should be tolerant, I think we should do the same for alien life.”

   “So you’re suggesting that a lot of these issues that we have today are down to a lack of education?” Cal pushed in. Then, he chuckled incredulously. “What with all these documentaries on the television? All these movies that everybody watches these days based on stories from the new and exciting cultures? If you look at the data on web traffic, the most popular news articles are always the ones related to Andalite technology or information on new races in faraway galaxies being revealed to us! You’re saying that people don’t know enough when it’s a huge part of what most people want to talk about?!”

   “Documentaries and movies never show the full story, Cal,” Danny pointed out. “They show us what’s exciting and suspenseful. We need to show people the mundane side, the side that we can relate to, not those things that make us different!”

   “So what is your solution?” Cal pressed.

   Danny shrugged and made a raspberry noise with his lips. “It’s a very complicated issue! What I _do_ know is that it would be a mistake to take away the parks current status _right now_. We shouldn’t do it when xenophobia is back to the levels of 2001 when we first found out about all these new races. Give it a couple years, wait till it calms down again, _then_ consider those options. Even then, I would places restrictions on the amount of space the government can build on!”

   I was beginning to like this person. It was clear that we had similar goals, but I couldn’t help but disagree with his on-the-spot solution. “I get your reasoning, Danny, but I really don’t think that building on Yellowstone will ever be a solution, no matter the levels of xenophobia at the time. It sets a precedent that our rights are in some way lesser than the rights of Humans. As long as Hork-Bajir live on that land, I think that right should be fully upheld until our own home is fixed and we are able to take it back.”

   “I wasn’t saying that Hork-Bajir rights are trumped by Human rights,” Danny countered. “That’s definitely not what I’m saying. But – and this is a _big_ but – we can’t ignore the other perspective. One of the big reasons that some people are angry is that the Hork-Bajir were _given_ this land. We cannot forget the definition of a reservation; that it is a piece of land left untampered. Whichever way we look at it, it’s been tampered with with the introduction. Maybe that was a mistake! Maybe the Hork-Bajir should have been placed somewhere else. It was a crazy time with lots of crazy ideas after a big war that nobody really knew about. Not many places would accept the Hork-Bajir because nobody knew about them. Even today, nobody knows why you ended up in Yellowstone, of all places. That said, I, and many other people, think that your rights are just as important as any Human’s, and that the best time and the best circumstances should be allowed before relocation can happen.”

   I shook my head, regrettably so. “Even now, who would accept us? Even if our reputation precluded us, would nobody show concern about possible impacts? Would moving us to an unprotected land simply allow murderers to come in and kill us? Yellowstone has been our home for almost a decade, and so far my people have thrived.”

   Danny pulled up his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. I couldn’t agree more. “We can only hope that the Hork-Bajir homeworld gets fixed in time.”

   “I hope for that, too.”

 

   The Martian Matters segment lasted an hour. After that most serious discussion, we took it in turns to comments on various smaller issues regarding alien life, took a few ad breaks and even indulged in some rather off-the-wall activities, one of which involved me showing, using a false replica of a tree trunk, how each of the different Hork-Bajir blades worked.

   It was trivial. It was benign. It could well have made me look like a fool, an entertainment piece devoid of the obstinate, factual and serious nature of the iconic Toby Hamee. But it was a success.

   Bar a few misspoken statements and the odd minor contradiction, I emerged unscathed from a whole hour of national broadcasting. My previous attempts were put behind, my reputation finding new building blocks in the regenerated me. Childlike and immature, perhaps, but I had to take into consideration one vital aspect to that: I was still a child, and immaturity was part of that temporary package.

   Well, adolescent, perhaps… I found myself agonisingly intrigued by the image of a female used as a backdrop somewhere in the middle of the one-hour segment. Did my stammering and eager twitch give me away?

   Regardless, I found it thoroughly enjoyable. My oft-nibbled tail found some rest once my confidence had a foothold and the nerves seemed to melt away. Perhaps I had the courteous host and the agreeable guest to thank, or maybe I really had uncovered the secret behind the crazy Human game.

   And so the segment came to a close, but not without a subtle warning of some of the difficulties I would have to face in the future. Cal Hudson began to wrap things up. “So, I’d like to thank our guests here today! Gentlemen, it’s been an honour, and you’re very welcome to come back to the studio, so long as you don’t make such a mess again.” He jested, staring at me whilst waving a hand to the floor coated in Styrofoam bark.

   “It’s a messy business!” I replied cheerfully. “I’m just thankful that there wasn’t any fake sap. That stuff is sticky.”

   “I’m glad, too. My guys get so annoyed when I make a mess in here that they make me clean it up!” He chuckled, looking down to his desk, then bringing up the difficult question that I hoped and expected that he wouldn’t ask. “Hey, Taku, one last question: Do you think you’ll be a governor like Toby Hamee? In the future?”

   It threw me off entirely, and the squeaky noise my throat decided to make made that more obvious than I would have wanted. “Governor?”

   “Yes.”

   “Like Toby?”

   Cal nodded, raising his eyebrows and turning his head slightly in a silent demand for an answer. “Yes.”

   I scratched at the base of my neck and hummed. “Well… I… I would rather not discuss that right now. Not with Toby still missing.”

   It could have been my best response all night, because it threw Cal into a bad territory of discussing Toby’s position when, as far as he and the general public knew, she was still missing and searches were still underway. I had avoided that line of questioning, and I was incredibly relieved.

   As he went over his final words and said his goodbyes, I lost myself inside my head to answer the questions that I posed myself. I was just self-aware enough to say my goodbye line and smile when prompted, but I just had to spend a couple minutes going over why I felt so conflicted about the issues the question brought.

   I wasn’t Toby Hamee. I never would be.

   When I lifted my head, apparently lost in my daze, I found Danny staring down at me from over the desk with a concerned look.

   “Hey, Taku. You okay?”

   I shook the stiffness from my body and lifted myself up to my feet, giving to him a genuine smile. “I’m very well, thank you.”

   I offered a hand for him to shake. He quizzed it over and compromised to shake two fingers. (His hands were too small to be a three-finger-shaker.)

   “I enjoyed that, Taku,” He chirped. “Very much! You were great.”

   “I can say the same for you,” I replied. “And I must say thank you. I really must. Some of my previous appearances haven’t been quite so… so welcoming.”

   “Yes,” He mumbled, looking away momentarily and rubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his right arm. I thought it was a strategic manoeuvre. “I saw those. They, uh, weren’t pleasant to watch, I admit. You seem different now, though.”

   I smiled proudly. “I _feel_ different now.”

   His eyes returned, and with it a friendly grin. “Say, Taku, I was planning on going to meeting down in Brooklyn tomorrow evening. Just a get-together of me and some close friends in the business. I think they’d really enjoy meeting you. Maybe we could rustle up some bark.”

   “Ooh, what kind of bark?”

   “I don’t know… Spruce? Beech? Larch?”

   “That sounds wonderful.” I replied.

   Danny laughed and gave me his details on a small piece of yellow paper. Yet another meeting for Taku. It was turning into a busy week, but a very enriching one.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

   There were so many things in the vast city of New York. I could have visited Central Park or the Brooklyn Bridge, perhaps met some celebrated Humans or explored the now-infamous abandoned hideout of an Andalite criminal gang that terrorised food producers across the city in 2006.

   Instead, I was parked in a café overlooking the main pool of an extravagant New York swimming club, with boredom the main of a three-course dinner of restraint. My head was rested pitifully against the glass, where thirty feet below, my team from Yellowstone were all taking a well-earned break in the clear blue pools. And all I could do was watch.

   My sigh left a blob of condensation on the glass and the simultaneous grunt vibrated around and back into my head. I saw as Clarissa emerged from the changing room, right below the windows I sat behind, and semi-jog in the direction of a steamy, bubbling Jacuzzi.

   Oh, what fun they were having. Then Clarissa caught my eye looking over her shoulder, where should could see me half-plastered to the pane with a hand pressed against the surface like the desperate attempts of a dog to get into its owners’ bedroom. If only she could have just as much fun as I was.

   Maybe I shouldn’t have been trying to garner sympathy. I didn’t want to ruin their fun. After all, they had done so much for me in organising this incomparably important trip to NYC. So I decided to stop being such a petty child and dragged my heavy skull from the unfortunate window, just in time to catch my big notebook and pen before they scurried off. Sometimes, I hoped that they would.

   “Mr Kelmut? Can I get you a drink?”

   I jumped, having been unaware of the young Human female who had arrived at my table. She was wearing a purple apron embellished with the leisure club’s logo, a stark contrast to her flowing blond hair. She seemed a little uncertain, but then she had probably never taken an order from a Hork-Bajir before.

   “Oh, sorry,” I muttered, adjusting my position. “I didn’t notice you come over. Could I have another bottle of water, please?”

   “Anything else, Mr Kelmut?”

   “No, thank you. And you can call me Taku…” I looked for her silver name badge at the top-right of the apron. “Kate. Thank you.”

   She smiled and left. As she moved her head, I spotted the television that was hung from the ceiling. What was previously some music channel was now CNN. I started to imagine myself there, inside millions of boxes around the world, little banners of news stories moving from right to left below me.

   I shouldn’t be fantasising. While I was bored in the café, I thought it best to get some work done. I opened up my notebook and turned the pages to my schedule. It was busy, and I was only in the city for another three days. Meetings, socials, even a visit to a university. And, of course, the last of my three appearances on screen.

   I had finished the second one just a few short hours ago, before heading to the leisure club. The segment was shorter than the hour that I’d had previously, being only half an hour, but it went much the same. I was with two other panellists. Like Danny Davies, they were inoffensive and could safely be said to be on my side of the issue. I gained them as contacts, too. Looking at my contacts page, it had certainly grown over the past few weeks, and every meeting I attended, every house I visited, that list kept on growing.

   All the respect and love I was receiving was making me increasingly worried. That could be silly. Maybe the Humans were more indebted to our cause than I had previously deducted.

   Where was the opposition that I was expecting? I couldn’t help but wonder why the Wyoming State Government, so cemented in their conclusion that Yellowstone would lose its status, would allow me and my team to preach to the population without resistance or retaliation. They had it in them, I was beyond sure of that, but they were holding back.

   Why, Taku? What are they _actually_ doing?

   My bottle of water arrived. I thanked Kate again and took a deep relieving swig. My eyes glanced back to the pool, where Clarissa was now enjoying a speedy trip down the big blue slide.

   I was being distracted again. I cursed my curious mind and went back to my notes, destined to do some studying for my next and final television appearance of this particular New York adventure.

   My notes, rather scribbly and often indistinct, provided me with information of times, locations and topics. I was to arrive at the studio at 3:00, be ready to air by 4:30 and my face would appear on-screen again at 5:00. The segment was dedicated solely to discussion on Yellowstone as a reserve, with no tangents, no unnecessary gimmicks. Half an hour of serious, intellectual discussion. I needed to do my homework.

   But part of my research was missing, and it was an essential part. Under the title _Panel,_ I was intending to list those who would be joining me on the show. The host would be there, of course, but he was not the one I would be discussing with, mostly.

   The section was empty. Once again, for the second time in the week, the other guest hadn’t been revealed. I wanted to complain last time, but Danny Davies was so pleasant that I let it slide. This separate news station was obviously having similar issues and it was incredibly frustrating.

   What could I do? With no idea who I would be talking with, how would I know what to focus research on? Without that knowledge of specialisation, I would need to freshen up on as many areas of controversy as possible. More effort, fewer specifics learned, definitely not good for my confidence going into it.

   I knew that the host was prone to taking sides. The show itself wasn’t dedicated to the deliverance of objective news stories, but opinionated commentaries and fiery discussions. It wouldn’t be calm, but a minefield. Anything less would go against the show’s nature. That made my lack of information even more nerve-wracking.

   Staring at my awkward scribbles was giving me a headache. I tried to move my mind onto another topic, spending a total of twenty-eight seconds scanning my notes on the latest _Hork-Bajir Homes_ filming objectives before giving up and reaching the conclusion that I simply wasn’t in the right mind-set. I drank deeply from my water and stood tall to stretch my back and thighs. I was already growing stiff.

   The café was mostly empty but for my security – , three of whom were stood by the entranceway with a coffee cup each, and the other on the next table over from me – and a visiting couple in Winter clothing sat at the centre-most table, who couldn’t resist watching me with intrigue since the moment I walked in. I waved when I noticed that they were fixated on me. They waved back.

   “You okay, Taku?” Asked my security on the next table from mine.

   “Yes, thank you,” I replied, stretching my tail out behind me and rolling my neck backwards. “I think I need some fresh air. Mind if I step outside?”

   “Sure,” He agreed, but not before getting out of his own seat and signalling to the other members of the team. “Bored of watching them down there?”

   “I want to get away from my notebook. I’m getting a very sore head from it. Please, don’t get up on my account.”

   He remained unseated. “Have to. It’s my job.”

   The café had a small balcony opposite the entrance that provided a perfect view of the leisure club grounds on the outer edges of New York, carving a big chunk of green in an otherwise grey world. There was a golf course, illustrated with a small lake and a grandiose water fountain. A beautiful view, even though bereft of trees, not including small decorative ones.

   Sammy, my security man, led me out onto the wooden decking. I smiled blissfully when the cool air hit my body, rather more pleasing than the stuffy, chemical air within the building. Even the ominous grey clouds ahead seemed less than an inconvenience.

   At first, I presumed to be alone. A whiff of smoke tickled my left nostril and I was quickly corrected when I followed the trail to a Human male sat at one of the oak tables overlooking the lawn. He was middle-aged with messy grey hair, wearing an unbuttoned grey jacket hugged loosely over a navy blue shirt. A cigarette was clutched in the fingers of his right hand, elbow resting lightly on the arm of his chair. He noticed my appearance, giving a welcoming smile before taking a deep tug on the cigarette.

   I didn’t want to disturb him, so I started to pad over to the other side of the balcony, Sammy not too far behind, keeping an eye on the surroundings. However, he may well have wanted to be disturbed. He called to me.

   “Hey.”

   The single word was enough to let me know that he wanted my full attention, so I turned my body around and took some steps toward him. “Hello.”

   “I saw you on television,” He spoke in a gruff tone. “Taka Kelmut, right?”

   “Yes. Well, Tak _u._ ”

   He nodded slowly. “Sorry, I’m not familiar with Hork names. You don’t find that offensive, do ya? Me saying Hork?”

   “No. No, of course not. Sometimes I wish the name was shortened. What is your name?”

   “Jim,” He replied. He exchanged the cigarette into his left hand and used the now-spare right hand to push the next chair over away from the table. “Take a seat? I’ve never talked to an alien before, don’t wanna pass up the opportunity.”

   Sammy suddenly appeared. He didn’t do anything, just stood in and became a presence hanging over us, a security blanket just in case this Jim Human turned out to be trouble. I pulled the seat all the way out and sat down, folding my legs beneath the table with just enough room that blades wouldn’t be a potential problem. It was uncomfortable, being a pretty low table.

   “What do you think of New York?” Jim asked to open a conversation.

   I rubbed at my neck and placed my bottle of water on the table surface. “I like it very much. It’s much different to what I’m used to, though. It’s taken a bit of getting used to.”

   “Trees here are a bit taller than the trees of home, huh?” He chuckled, tugging on his cigarette and preparing to bring up another, a pack of Marlboro’s being revealed from his shirt pocket.

   “They’re a bit shinier, too.” I added.

   “Yeah, I bet. That’s a neat thing you’re doing with your voice. Almost sounds Human.”

   I looked away, a little embarrassed. “Almost? Maybe it’s impossible to get it just right.”

   Jim extinguished the first cigarette in the ashtray and lit the next. “You don’t need it around me, Mr Kelmut. It must hurt your throat.”

   I hesitated. So used to altering my voice, it was almost difficult to drop the façade. I managed, my words returning to my more guttural, natural sound. “It does. It takes a lot of concentrating; at least it did at first. To be honest, though, I don’t think I’ve spoken normally all week. Only when I’m very stressed, I suppose, though it doesn’t happen as often anymore. I get nervous and I can’t keep it up.”

   “Sounds better,” Jim commented. “I don’t know why you’d fake it.”

   “I have my reasons.” I defended, possibly sounded far pettier than I would have intended.

   “Sure you do,” He nodded. “So what brings you here? Not often I see extra-terrestrials around these parts. Thinking of playing golf?”

   Having reverted to my normal voice, I also brought back my natural laugh. It was shocking to hear it come from my own snout. “No, not quite. I’m here with my team. They’re having a break.”

   Jim averted his gaze to Sammy, who was keeping a close eye on proceedings, as expected. “This your team?”

   Sammy raised his eyebrows. He was never much of a talker during working hours. I said, “He is one of them. The rest are in the pool, inside.”

   “Ah, right. Didn’t feel like swimming, huh?”

   “It is not one of my peoples’ best skills,” I admitted, unfettered. “But we do enjoy bathing in shallow water. I would join them, but the chemicals in the water would make me ill. That, and…” I twisted my arms upwards, displaying my blades at a clearer angle.

   Jim watched, furrowing his brow. Then, he reached into the pocket of his Levi jeans to uncover another packet of cigarettes, unopened. “May I?” He asked, but before I could give him permission, he moved forward, placed the seal of the packet against the tip of my wrist blade and pulled back. The outer packaging tore open, and Jim was able to retrieve his newest cigarette. “Pretty damn useful.” He uttered.

   “I don’t open many cigarette boxes,” I explained. “But they’re definitely useful for other purposes. Tin cans...”

   He tapped the cigarette box on the table. “Tin cans? For yourself?”

   “No,” I said. “My supervisor sometimes asks me to open things for her when I visit her home. She calls me her pet can opener.”

   Jim frowned, leaning back in his chair. “You ain’t nobody’s pet. At least, you shouldn’t be.”

   “She isn’t being serious when she says it.”

   “But you never open the can for yourself.”

   “Well, no… I don’t need to.” I mumbled, feeling the conversation slipping totally out of my control.

   “You need to open your own tin can,” Jim explained sternly. He opened up the cigarette case before me, revealing the butts of three rows of the small smoke sticks. “You opened it. You take from it.”

   Puzzled, I moved in closer then back away again, cocking my head and studying his expression. “I don’t think I should smoke a cigarette. I’m very certain that it’s bad for me.”

   “But you opened it,” Jim urged, hoisting the box closer. “You’re not going to have one?”

   I felt cornered and turned away slightly, still keeping eye contact but making it clear that I was not going to take a cigarette. “I feel that you’re trying to make a point to me.”

   I was correct in my assumption. He pulled away the cigarettes. “Well, now I feel bad. You did a favour for me, but I don’t know what to give back to you.”

   “Honestly,” I said weakly, waving a hand. “You don’t need to give me something in return.”

   “I don’t? Okay, so you helped me, but you ain’t benefitted even one bit.”

   “I suppose not.” I shrugged.

   “So why did you?”

   What was he trying to get at? I sunk backwards and watched his eyes to pull from them some kind of idea. I found nothing and lost the will to continue when a new cloud of smoke interrupted my vision. Perhaps I had to play along and give him the answers that he wanted.

   “Because I could.” I responded, sitting forward again.

   He chuckled. “That’s not a reason. Not a good one, anyway. No, Mr Kelmut, you don’t do things _just because you can_. You do things because you get something back.”

   “That’s not necessarily true…”

   “I say it is. You can’t name me one time when you’ve done something for nothing in return.”

   I was offended, to say the least, that he would accuse me of never acting in selflessness. Frowning at him, I searched my mind for a pertinent example. “I allowed my team to come here and have some time to themselves. But I cannot be with them. I have to sit by myself while they enjoy each other’s company.”

   Jim smiled, twisting the example in his head and giving back the remains. “And what would happen if you didn’t let them have a break?”

   “Well… They wouldn’t be very happy.”

   “They wouldn’t. Who would be, huh?”

   I was feeling very foolish when the truth of the situation dawned on me. “They would resent me, maybe…”

   “Maybe if you didn’t let them take a break again, they would resent you more,” Jim hypothesised. “Maybe if you didn’t let them a third time… Well, maybe you won’t have a team anymore. Maybe you’d be all alone, Mr Kelmut.”

   “That’s possible.” I admitted quietly.

   “Maybe if you didn’t open my cigarette case for me, I would have left you all alone, too!” His point well made, he allowed me a few seconds to dwell on the matter by reaching over to the adjacent empty seat. From there, he pulled up a small brown paper bag. Sammy, still somewhat attentive, perked slightly, but was relieved when Jim pulled a type of confectionary out. He placed it preciously on top of the now empty paper back, in front of me. “There, you can have that as my repayment.”

   I looked at it, examined it, moved my snout down to sniff it. “What is this?” I queried.

   “Cinnamon bun,” Jim answered after another go at his cigarette. “You can have it.”

   I wasn’t sure that I wanted it, and nor was Sammy. It smelt immensely sugary, far more than my tongue would ever enjoy. There were other smells as well that weren’t so immediate. “That’s okay. I don’t think I would like the taste.”

   Jim chuckled. “At least give it a try.”

   At this point, Sammy decided to intervene. “Sir, I insist that you do not offer Mr Kelmut any food.”

   “It’s okay, Sammy,” I said, raising my right hand above the table to stop him and then to grab the bun. “I don’t think it’s a problem.”

   Sammy shot me a disapproving look, but sat back, knowing that it was my own decision. I lifted up the cinnamon bun, turned it in my hands to look at every side from every angle. It most definitely did not cause my brain to see it as food. My instincts were telling me that it was not to be eaten and that I should perhaps find a nearby tree instead. Nevertheless, I pushed past it and dug the end of my snout against one side of the bun, ripping a section from the squishy, sugary Human treat.

   My thick tongue rubbed against the surface and that was all I needed. My hand moved the bun away far from my mouth and the piece that I had bitten off dropped down to the ground from my lower jaw. I squinted and nearly gagged.

   “Don’t you like it?” Jim asked. He already knew the answer.

   “Not really.” I replied bluntly, placing the bun back on the paper bag and pushing it gently away. I looked back to Jim, who was sat back into his seat again, pulling out yet another cigarette. Maybe the second-hand smoke had altered my perception of taste?

   “Well, that’s a damn shame!” He exclaimed. “I had nothing else to give you. So now I can’t give you anything you like, and I’ve lost a cinnamon bun.”

   I sat silently, pouting with the horrid taste still tickling the end of my poor tongue. Having worked out the sequence of events in my head, I spoke back to him. “I think I know what you’re trying to get across.”

   He smiled wider, tapping on the butt of his cigarette to rid the dead ashes clinging to the flames. “You don’t need that stupid Human voice. You sound much better like you’re speaking right now. Real. Natural. The real Taku Kelmut!”

   “I suppose…”

   “Besides, what does it do for you? Make some idiots happy? What do you get when you make idiots happy?”

   “Tell me, please.”

   “You make more idiots. Not good for you. Not good for them.”

   I understood. It would take some consideration, but his opinion was settling nicely into my head. I smiled, pleased with new the angle. I had to add, though, “Sorry about the bun…”

   Jim waved a hand and exhaled air in a dismissive fashion. “I can get another.”

   “I’m sure we could offer you something. We’re having a buffet later in one of the event rooms downstairs. I’d be happy for you to join.”

   “Why, that’s very kind of you, Mr Kelmut!”

   “Please, Taku.”

   “Taku,” He corrected. “I would be honoured. How long you sticking around?”

   “Sticking ar-…” I mumbled, recalling what the idiom meant. “Oh, I’m here for another three days. I have one more scheduled television appearances and a couple more social meetings.”

   “Oh yeah? What show you on?”

   “ _The Orson Hour_ ,” I informed. “Are you familiar with it?”

   He nodded. “Yeah, I am! I don’t like it, personally. Just people yelling crap so much that I can’t hear a damn word they’re saying.”

   “Yes…” I sighed, laughing quietly to myself. “It should be entertaining, no doubt.”

   The grey clouds I had noticed earlier had finally breezed close enough that the first droplets were beginning to fall. Those few droplets rapidly became a persistent downfall. I grumbled, dropping my head down. “I can’t stand the rain…”

   He stubbed out his last cigarette and began to rise to his feet, pushing the chair out from behind him. “Well, I’m going back inside. It’s drier in there. When does this gathering of your start?”

   “Soon,” I said. “Once my team have finished their swimming. You’re very welcome to join me at my table while we wait.”

   Jim grinned, slowly nodding. “That’s sounds like a good idea. You know, you’re a lot nicer than those Andalite guys. They wouldn’t accept me to their table if I was worth a billion dollars!”

   I slowed my walk as we started to head back to the café, narrowing my eyes in confusion. “I… thought that you’d never met an alien before.”

   “I like to pretend it didn’t happen.”

   The three of us strolled back into the café. When Jim wasn’t looking, Sammy shot me a glance as if to say that I was doing something wrong. I shrugged back. The Human seemed trustworthy enough to me.

   Destined for the table I was sat on previously, we passed by the counters where a couple of staff were busy doing whatever it was they needed to do. The place was still relatively empty, so the only sounds that filled the air were the clanking of glass and plates from behind the kitchen doors and the speakers connected to the televisions. I let the noise drone past at first, expecting the same old stories.

   But Jim turned his head suddenly, twisting his body sideward to look directly at one of the screens. Such a movement made certain that it was not just a casual glance. I followed his eyes.

   On the screen was the same news reporter from before. But, according to the big writing on a yellow background, there was breaking news. Curious, I turned to gain a better vantage point to listen in.

   The reporter, a dark-brown haired suited Human male, was speaking, “-is said to contain plans to infiltrate military bases worldwide, in order to falsely give an appearance that they are preparing for military action. One quote states:” The screen changed to show a highlighted section of text, the quote mentioned, “ _If the activation of weapons systems should not initiate direct hostility between the Human and Kelbrid races, then discharge of selected systems, as a presumptive strike, should suffice.”_

   That cold chill hit my spine again, and it wasn’t just the remnants of the rain dripping down towards my tail. From the few sentences I’d heard so far, I knew what had happened. My hands came up to my face, but I continued to watch through my fingers.

   “The President is expected to come out on this issue later today,” The reporter continued, “And he has already come out with some remarks, saying that these revelations show a great lack of respect for the allegiance. The actions suggested to be taken are criminal and are in stark violation of the Joint World Agreement signed in 2002. He has so far not commented on the effects that the _Horvallack Document_ will have on the alliance between Humans and Andalites.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

   “Three!”

   It stung. My head bowed to the desk. I clutched so tight on the phone that the casing snapped and crumpled.

   The whole room, frantic as it had been for the last two hours, took another dip into an emotional trench, though the noise remained. Phones, keyboard, televisions. The voices of eleven melting into a continuous one in the hotel room we sat in. We had rushed from the leisure club as soon as we were gathered, and the owners of the hotel allowed us to borrow the staff lounge, complete with computers, while we tried to fix an unfixable mess that was never ours to break.

   The voice on the other end of the phone buzzed up again, bringing my head back to the conversation at hand. “No, Mr Kelmut, they haven’t gotten back to us yet.”

   “Have you heard nothing at all?” I pressed, not bothering to employ my Human voice. The female on the other end was struggling to understand me.

   “No. I’m sorry, but they haven’t contacted us at all. Not since before the document was leaked.”

   “Thank you. I’ll call back later.” I grunted, dropping the phone onto the receiver and immediately retrieving it. I pulled over a folder, found the number I was looking for and dialled it in.

   While it rang, my eyes observed the room. Everything was a panic, and nobody was getting anywhere. We needed updates. The _Horvallack_ _document_ was a serious blow to our plans. Not ours, necessarily, but the plans Toby had helped to create back when the alliance was made after the Yeerk War. The plans to return my people home rested on a continued alliance between Humans and Andalites, with Humans providing our temporary home and the Andalites transporting us back once our own world was brought up to standard.

   And of course, the Andalites decided to ruin everything.

   “Statement expected in five minutes!” Somebody shouted.

   Someone else responded, “Anyone got anything from the Andalites?!”

   “Embassy expected to say something! No idea when!”

   With so many voices floating around, I clearly missed the reply from the person I was calling.

   “Hello?!” The Human male shouted, growing frustrated with the lack of a response.

   “Sorry,” I apologised, covering my other ear to cut out the voices of my team. “Hello. This is Tom Spurr?”

   “Yes…” Tom replied, pitch rising mid-word in the typical Human sign of suspicion. “Is this… Is this Toby?”

   “No. This is Taku Kelmut.”

   “Oh…” Tom sighed. “How did you get my number?”

   “I have Toby’s contacts. Sorry to call you out of nowhere, but… This isn’t out of nowhere. I’m sure you’ve heard what’s going on. I’m also sure that you know more about it than many other people. That’s what I’d assume, looking at the information Toby has written by your name.”

   According to her words, Tom Spurr was one of the major figures within the CIA. He would be very cautious around me and there was the possibility that he would give me nothing. But I was desperate to know.

   “Okay,” He uttered with uncertainty. “ _Horvallack_ _Document_.”

   “Yes. My team and I have been waiting patiently to receive new information, but we’re getting nothing. You understand how much this document could mean to us.”

   “What do you want to know?” He asked, sounding particularly disinterested.

   “As much as you can tell me.”

   There was a pause as he ordered his thoughts. “The document was received a few hours ago from the Andalite vessel _Rise from the Shadows._ The full document has not been released to the public, but the most pertinent segments have been published online. You’ll find it.”

   I waited. It concerned me when he failed to continue. Tapping my fingers and rocking my head in disbelief, it became apparent that he was ending it there. “That’s as much as you can tell me?”

   “Right now, yes.”

   “You have received no word from the Andalites?”

   “I can’t reveal that information, Mr Kelmut.”

   I put a hand to my face and sighed. “Well… Could you send us the whole document?”

   “Afraid not, Mr Kelmut. This information is classified. You’ll just have to wait like everybody else.”

   “I need to know the status of the alliance,” I demanded, seething with a growing anger. “My peoples’ lives hang on the rope that you and the Andalites tied! I need to know if that rope still exists! I’m certain you’ve heard about what’s currently going on in Yellowstone.”

   He was unfazed by my change of tone. “Yes, and the appropriate organisations are dealing with that as we speak.”

   “Please, Mr Spurr, I need some more information. I need to know where this puts my people!”

   “Believe me,” He replied. “As soon as we are able, we will give you all the information and support you need. Until then, you just have to wait.”

   I didn’t wait long enough for a goodbye. I threw the phone down. “Fucking asshole!”

   The cold shivers ran through me. My legs wanted to walk or run, to loosen. My back ached, hunched forward in the uncomfortable chair.

   “Five!”

   It was all crumbling before me. What could I do? I had no authority over the situation, no political guile or meaningful words to fix it. Now, both hands were at my face, but they couldn’t remain, for Toby was watching.

   She was sat against the wall to my left, watching my actions curiously. So calm and composed in such a frantic time.

   Embarrassed, I shook off the defeatism and pulled closer some files. There must have been something I could do. With most in the room concentrating on events in Yellowstone, I had delegated myself to the _Horvallack_ problem. But I couldn’t gain more information, at least not yet. On top of that, nobody was able to get hold of the Andalite authorities.

   Authorities…

   I sprang an idea and dived straight into Toby’s files again, searching for a distinct name. With dozens of pages full of Toby’s messy scribbles, it could take a while, but no doubt I would find what I was looking for.

   As I searched, I heard the unmistakeable sound of pouring water. Adjusting my sight for just a second, I saw water being poured into my cup, which temporarily took the place of an absent water bottle. When the pouring stopped, I reached over and pulled the cup over to drink, emptying the steaming contents into my mouth. The reaction to intense heat caused me to spray it all over the desk and cry out. It brought my attention away from the files, though.

   “I told you it was hot, Taku!” Clarissa berated with the steamy jug in hand. “Weren’t you listening?”

   I pouted, then hung my mouth open to allow cold air to sooth my tongue. “I don’t think so. Sorry. I didn’t think the water would be that hot.”

   She shook her head. “You asked for hot water. You want some cold water now?”

   I slumped in place. “My mouth is on fire. Cold water would be lovely…”

   “Look,” She sighed. “Don’t get too worked up over all this. You have a whole group of friends here helping out and more back at home. Stay focused.”

   My head swayed, dizzied as the emotions started to catch up to me. Eventually, it fell to my hand, held up with my elbow on the desk. “Why now?” I asked resentfully, feeling a need to cry or run off to somewhere quiet. “Why couldn’t this have all happened while I was home? I shouldn’t be here in New York.”

   Clarissa noticed my distress and stood beside me to rub both my shoulders. She was doing her best to keep me calm. “This would have happened whether you were at home or not.”

   “Six!”

   Her hands stopped massaging briefly, but they continued. Clarissa didn’t say anything.

   I took in a deep breath and realised that I was clutching at the tip of my tail again. With my eyes closed, I took a few moments to let everything around me become insignificant. It waved over me and I felt myself loosen. I dropped my tail and let it sit back on the dull green carpet.

   “Did you hear anything?” I heard Clarissa enquire softly.

   “Nothing,” I replied. “But I’ve got an idea. We can’t get hold of Andalite authorities, but we can call an average, everyday Andalite and ask what they’ve heard.”

   She sounded unsure. “You think nobody has tried that already?”

   “Of course. But maybe I could find something out.”

   She hummed acceptingly. “Worth a try, right?”

   I opened my eyes, feeling a little more energised and less tied down by the emotions of the moment. Toby was still sat at the side of the room, eyes forever fixed on me. It irked me.

   “Stop looking at me!” I snapped at her with enough restraint to keep the whole room from hearing. Toby narrowed her eyes, but they remained in my direction. I grunted petulantly.

   “Um, what?”

   I craned my neck to look at Clarissa. She was baffled.

   “Oh. Not you, Clarissa.” I clarified.

   “Then who…. I…” She stammered. “You… Need some water, you know? I’ll go get some.” And off she walked.

   Yes, I needed water. My mouth was still in pain, but I would not let that deter me from my purpose. There was far too much at stake. I ran a blunted claw down the page full of Toby’s notes looking for a name.

   “Seven!”

   I moved faster as the number registered. I knew how much Toby disliked Andalites, but surely, _surely_ she knew some that she was willing to contact again, even in an emergency… I ran over the names of governors, legislators, lawyers, even a couple of well-known singers that she was particularly fond of. She had “befriended” a lot of famous Humans in her time.

   Finally, on page six, I found one. Drammut-Harroumar-Geffit, a Human/Andalite relations official, apparently based in D.C.. His role even seemed coincidentally relevant. Hopefully his office would be under the same number advertised in Toby’s book. Hopefully he wouldn’t have deserted after the news broke.

   I dialled the number carefully and held the phone to the base of my skull. It was ringing, and it did that for a while. I was about to give up, my eyes already skimming over the next page of contacts, when there was a clicking sound. A Human female’s automated voice began talking.

   “ _This phone uses a Human/Andalite thought-speech translator,”_ She said robotically. “ _Please hold while the system is initiated.”_

I didn’t have to hold long. A voice answered. “Who is this?”

   I was a little nervous. Having never spoken to an Andalite, I wasn’t sure what to expect. This voice sounded robotic, but that was likely due to the translator. I couldn’t tell whether the Andalite was male or female because of it. “Oh, hello! Is this, oh… Drammut-Harroumar-Geffit? Is that who I’m speaking to?” I started, making sure to sound as Hork-Bajir as possible.

   The phone went silent, but I didn’t hear any clicks or indications that he had hung up. He eventually got back to me. “This sounds like Governor Toby Hamee. Is it you?”

   “No,” I responded. “My name is T-”

   “Who are you and why are you calling me?”

   I grumbled at his rudeness, but part of me realised how panicked he must have been, given the situation going on around him. “This is Taku Kelmut. Toby is not around, but she has trusted me with the majority of her work.”

   She was still there in the corner of my left eye. I was checking whether she agreed. She scratched her neck casually.

   “I see…” The Andalite replied ponderously. “I’ve heard of you. Rather strangely, I was planning to contact you at some point. Since Toby disappeared.”

   “You were?”

   “Yes. But not anymore,” He huffed. “My plans for the foreseeable future are on hold. I hope you understand.”

   I felt a sigh burgeoning, but I didn’t want him to hear. “Of course, I do. These are troubling times for both of us.”

   “Indeed. So, Taku Kelmut, why did you call? I’m too busy for idle chat with somebody I don’t know.”

   Maybe this Andalite was, as Toby’s notes suggested, one of the more agreeable that she had met. Maybe she was deluded. Either way, I was finding this conversation increasingly difficult. “I was hoping to get some clarity on this situation with the _Horvallack_ Document.”

   “Ah. That. Why should I tell you anything?”

   Despite his reluctance to give me any leniency, I understood that he would be sceptical. I had to go through a trial-and-error process to find a gap in his stronghold. “Drammut, could I ask what your relationship with Toby was like?”

   He seemed confused about the topic switch. “Toby Hamee? I only met her three times and those were on political terms. I never thought I would respect her because of her…. _background_ , but she turned out to be a very strong-willed and genuine leader. I respected her a lot.”

   “She seemed to like you, too, looking through her notes,” I said. “And she’s not the type to hide her distaste.”

   “That’s wonderful to know,” He murmured. “I hear that she is missing, though. It’s very peculiar.”

   “It is, yes.”

   “Anyway, what does she have to do with any of this?”

   I cleared my throat, the nerves coursing over me creating the feeling of being clogged up. “I’m making this call on her behalf. Though she’s not around, I have been given a large number of her duties. With that in mind, I’m currently, theoretically, leading my people into this troubling situation. Now, judging by her notes that she left for me, you appear to be the only Andalite she ever considered calling again. Clearly, she trusted you in some way. So I’m asking, Drammut-Harroumar-Geffit, for Toby’s sake, could I have information on the _Horvallack Document_ so that I can further her cause and protect her people?”

   He paused, which led me to believe that he was considering it. However, he was considering something else. He didn’t hide behind subtlety. “Do you know where she is? You sound like you know something.”

   It was a good thing that it was a phone conversation. Maybe my facial expression would have given it away. I removed the phone slightly away from my ear and dropped my head to consider my actions. Then I looked around the room at my Yellowstone team, all of them hard at work, their attention elsewhere.

   I could have told him right then, but Clarissa strode in, a new jug of cooled water in hand. She placed it on my desk and sat in a seat just off to my right.

   “No,” I replied. “I don’t know where she is.”

   “Hm… Well, I apologise but there isn’t really too much I can tell you, Taku Kelmut.”

   I grunted with frustration. “What _can_ you tell me?”

   “I can tell you that I have the document right in front of me. A very tedious read, actually. You aren’t missing out on much, honestly.”

   “Ah, so you have the document.” I clarified.

   “A copy, yes.”

   “Could you send it to me?”

   “No. My superiors have informed me that the full document is not to be handed to anybody. We don’t want people drawing conclusions.”

   “To _anybody_?” I repeated, hoping for some leniency.

   “Anybody. The reaction to this document from the Humans could be damaging, so we want it to be kept as private as possible for now. You’re not Human, but we won’t trust anybody with this yet.”

   I dropped a fist on my desk, grieving the dead end I had stumbled into. “I suppose there’s nothing else to tell?”

   He fell silent. The translator picked up no noise. He got back to me, speaking cautiously as if to make sure his words didn’t spill anything valuable. “The document was leaked from the _Havit Norcuyz ep vit,_ an intra-communication vessel orbiting Earth. Its current mission is to deliver military communications between Andalite forces on Earth and those towards the _Gratt Border_.”

   “The Gratt Border?”

   “The border separating Andalite Space and Kelbrid Space. Correction: The border that _used to separate_ Andalite Space and Kelbrid Space.”

   The news headlines were swirling in my head while he told me. “From what I’ve been told, the document talks about infiltrating Human military bases, to turn them on Kelbrid forces. Is that true?”

   Another deliberate pause. “And you wonder why we want to keep this document secret from the Humans.”

   “But it’s not secret,” I pointed out. “They know.”

   “As long as there’s mystery, there’s hope.”

   “Slim,” I added with some forced optimism. “How do you see this affecting the alliance?”

   I was nervous about his answer, and he proved my anxiousness to be justified. “Irreparably.”

   I slumped, dropping back heavily into my chair. I took my new cup of water and gulped it down hastily. “That’s bad for my people. Who should I go to about discussing our contract?”

   “You won’t be able to get a hold of anybody right now. I will make sure that you do, though.”

   “You will?” I asked, stunned. “I appreciate that a lot.”

   “It may be a while, I hope you understand,” He explained. “My priorities are elsewhere until the situation settles, but I will be discussing this with the Extra-planetary Council soon. I’ll make sure that they know you wish to discuss any contract issues that arise from this.”

   “I can’t thank you enough,” I said graciously. I moved the phone into my left hand, and use my other hand to pull my own contact notebook closer. I copied Drammut’s details over from Toby’s book. “I hope this comes to an agreeable conclusion.”

   “So do I. Talk soon, Taku Kelmut.”

   We hung up. This time, I put the phone down with considerably more restraint. I received very little information, but the promise of future talks made up for that. Clarissa, noticing that my call was done, came back into my line of vision.

   “Well?” She said, pressing for a report.

   I sat back and twiddled my fingers. “That was an Andalite working on alliance relations. Drammut-Harroumar-Geffit.”

   “Oh yeah,” She nodded. “I remember him. Met him when I was with Toby, you know?”

   “He couldn’t tell me anything, really,” I told her. “But he says that he can get me in touch with the Extra-Planetary Council. I guess that means I might meet a representative.”

   She has poured out more water for me. I took the cup and dropped the cool liquid on my aching tongue again. I was satisfied with the result, but that satisfaction was little more than a temporary distraction. The next shouted number quickly brought me back to reality.

   “Eleven!”

   I brought my fingers to the bridge of my snout and exhaled roughly. “How is this still happening?” I hissed to Clarissa. “Where is the security?! I thought they had been doubled!”

   Clarissa didn’t have an answer. She gaped at me pathetically, and then looked to the rest of the room for an answer. Only one was paying attention and he shook his head sympathetically at me.

   I needed to do something. My people were dying and I was sat In New York, burning my tongue on hot water and arranging debates with Andalite politicians. I saw the bewilderment strewn on Toby’s face. _She_ certainly wouldn’t stand for it!

   I pulled myself up to my feet, stretching out to my full height. The silent announcement brought attention from most in the room. Their swivelled heads enticed the rest to take notice. (Having a Hork-Bajir body definitely had benefits, and presence was one of those.)

   I strained my throat to speak clearly. “I don’t think we’ll get much information on the documents. There are other priorities now, anyway, so maybe we should stop trying. We’ll keep our ears open if anything else on the Horvallack document comes up, but my people are being killed as we speak. I want all our attention on that,” I looked to the man calling out numbers. “How many now?”

   He bit his lip. “Twelve, Taku.”

   “And have they found him yet?”

   “Not yet. They’re close.”

   I shook. How it was being allowed to happen for so long was severely hurtful. “Some nut job wants to come onto my land and kill my people. I want him caught alive. I want him caught alive and I want him in _our_ custody!” I loosened my focus on him and addressed the entire room. “I’d like every detail and name in this event printed for me, please. Every gun wound, every body and everyone even partly responsible written down. I’d also like the police chief on the phone, please.”

   A couple of the team instantly sprang into action to fulfil the duties I had handed out. With their attention focused, I sat back down and pondered my next move while waiting for a phone to be offered to me.

   Toby continued to stare. Why must she watch me right now? I tried to stare her back down, but her intensity had always been impossible to break through. Even when sat in the corner, idle and lazy, she was overpowering me. I felt so weak and so stupid. Out of my depth.

   “I’m doing the best I can!” I barked at her. “Stop staring at me!”

   Suddenly, the room grew a bit more silent. Some faces turned to me, baffled and perplexed.

   “Um, Taku,” Clarissa whispered, pulling me lightly by the arm. “Are you okay?”

   I stared back at her quizzically. “I’m fine…”

   Clarissa wasn’t satisfied, nor were the others that were listening in on our distraction. She leant against the desk, making herself the centre of my attention. I saw pity in her eyes, grieving my predicament like I was a lost child in search of a mother. “Taku, I think you should take a rest.”

   I blinked, stunned by her terrible suggestion. “Rest? I can’t rest now! Why should I?”

   She sighed heavily, defeated. “You’ve been panicking, like, non-stop ever since the whole document thing.”

   “It seems like the perfect time for panicking,” I reasoned. “The Alliance is ending, our only way home is probably going to leave and there’s a madman at Yellowstone gunning down my people. Panicking is the least of my worries.”

   “Yeah…” She grumbled, flicking her hand in the air. “Maybe we should think about, you know, calling off tomorrow?”

   Call it off? My mouth dropped open, ready to speak, but in my surprise I lost any words. I turned to the other faces in the room, inviting other opinions.

   Neil, the redhead in the checkered shirt, spoke up. “We could call up. They’ll understand with all that’s going on.”

   “So you want to cancel the _Orson Hour_ appearance?” I asked in disbelief.

   “There are things more important right now, Taku.” Clarissa tried to explain. The pitiful expression still plagued her face and it was starting to bother me.

   “Yes,” I replied with a hushed tone. “There are more important things. _Much_ more important things. Things that, unfortunately, I have no control over. Things that I can have no meaningful effect on. So maybe I should abandon _The Orson Hour_ ,” My voice was growing in both volume and frustration, but I tried my hardest to remain calm despite the horror encircling my mind. “I’ll go sit at home watching the news and hoping for answers, instead of staying here and telling the Humans exactly what I think about this whole mess! I can’t throw away the opportunity to voice the concerns of my people, _especially_ at a time like this! I want all the details I need to go on that show tomorrow and give it to the people of this nation straight. I will not cower at home while my people get murdered!”

   They didn’t argue. Clarissa was completely unsatisfied with my decision, but the pitiful look evaporated. The new look was of unfavourable disbelief, but it was an improvement.

   I was very thankful for my team. Even if they disagreed, they accepted my decision and worked towards the desired outcome. Clarissa remained by my side and helped organising my rushed, scribbled notes.

   As I contemplated my decision for the thousandth time, I looked over to Toby. But she was gone, replaced by a potted plant. Equally as stubborn, unmoving.

   And the room breathed a bitter sigh of relief when the words were spoken: “They got him!”


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

   “I can’t believe that they think they can just get away with it! It _really_ … I can’t… Do they not realise that we make plans around this?! We organise everything, hire out the security and the cars… How can they just decide to tell us to go somewhere else?!”

   My tail was quivering somewhere behind me, numbed as my brain tried to untangle the words that my tongue was desperate to speak. Humans buzzed around me, preparing the area for what was to come. Clarissa stepped before me, adding some final touches to my head blades. Completely unnecessary.

   “It must be something to do with the shootings! Do they think I’m angry? They think I’ll take a wild swing?! Do they really think I’m so incapable of self-control?! They don’t respect me, I’m sure. Why would they? Clearly they don’t respect me enough to give me any notice of whatever the fuck is going on!”

   There was a big metallic bang. A big camera was being moved into place, the crew in a panic over the rushed new schedule. There was a call for four minutes until we began. That voice echoed upwards into the small unused room, walls blank and dark. A back room. No studio.

   “This was the biggest one! Peak time, biggest show on the network! After the worst tragedy we’ve had in years! It’s disgusting! It’s disgraceful! It’s te-ughm!”

   The water bottle jammed into my snout was enough to stop my ranting. Embarrassed, I looked into Clarissa’s eyes. She was clearly annoyed, hands on hips. “Calm down, Taku. Drink some water.”

   Half the water had already fallen down my neck, but the rest I gulped deliberately. I removed the bottle and let my shoulders drop and relax. I was working myself up and perhaps it wasn’t the best time. “Sorry.”

   “And your voice is slipping.”

   I cleared my throat and straightened my posture. Straining my vocal chords, I spoke in my clear tone once more, “Sorry.”

   “I get that you’re angry,” She sighed, inspecting my face with increasingly familiar scrutiny. “And you’re not the only one, you know. We didn’t ask to do it from here.”

   I had calmed enough to make my point in a much more dignified fashion. “I was meant to be on the panel. In the studio, sat with the host. I just don’t understand why they changed it. Today. Six hours before I was meant to be on…”

   She shrugged, a meagre signal that she was listening while the majority of concentration was on cleaning my face. “I think you’re ready now. Not much else I can do to your eyes.”

   “You say that like there’s something wrong with them.”

   She tapped under my arm, my cue to stand. “You look tired.”

   “I am,” I grumbled, stretching as I got up from the rickety wooden stool. “Do you think anybody will notice? Or care?”

   “They should understand why,” She considered, giving me one last look-over. “You know, the ones that know what a tired Hork-Bajir looks like.”

   I sighed, then reached my hands up to rub my eyes before Clarissa stopped me forcefully. Rubbing my eyes would ruin her work.

   She looked up at me pitifully. “You know, it’s not too late to, like, say _fuck this_ and go home.”

   It was mightily tempted, but that was something I was eager to resist. “No. I need to.”

   “You sure? Is it the best thing to do right now with what just happened?”

   I reached forward and held her hand, letting her know that I was giving her a promise. “If it turns out to be a bad idea, you’ll be the first person I’ll say sorry to.”

   I set my sight to my interview position, another stool (that was hopefully less rickety) before a brightly-lit sky blue background. Not the overly-indulged mess of swirling computer-generated flags that I was expecting.

   “You’ll be fine.”

   I pulled up my shoulder and rubbed a tightening hand down my neck where the vocal chords lay. With a quiet hum, I tested my Human voice and found it suitably prepared. Tragedies and responsibilities were slid aside, replaced by facts and stats rehearsed the night before, sleepless hours that would have been sleepless regardless.

   Thirteen had died. Thirteen Hork-Bajir going about their daily routines, completely ignorant of the man with the gun. Young Hork-Bajir who had no clue what a gun was or what was happening, who saw the gunman shoot down their peers and jogged over to help. It continued until a war veteran, a male named Ferk who was very close to Toby, noticed what was going on and ambushed and restrained the Human.

   Eighteen were injured. One or two shots gunshots were rarely enough to take a Hork-Bajir down.

   I tried to keep it from affecting me. I thought of what Toby would do and tried to copy her calm, calculated demeanour. It wasn’t easy. I distracted myself with cold research and rehearsing, but when the skies turned dark and I ran out of script, it started to get to me. I had my own hotel room and I had gotten used to sleeping alone since I began venturing away from home, but Clarissa, in the next room over, must have heard my sobbing as I tried to get some rest. She allowed me into her room, where the close proximity to another being was enough to grant me at least a couple hours of sleep. Though, she did find me asleep in the morning, stood leaning against her wardrobe. Moving during sleep is entirely unnatural to my race.

   That was why I was tired. Not too tired to perform my duties in front of the cameras, but tired enough to make me anxious of little slip-ups.

   I was urged to the lit zone, offered a cup of water and given some final words of advice from the camera crew as I went by. Eventually, I was given my custom earpiece and I was sat on my stool, shifting my backside until I was comfortable, or as close to comfortable as I could get.

   _Just one more, Taku, and then we can go home, back to our favourite branch and a big bowl of sap._

   The screen flashed in front of me, the newsroom that I was meant to be appearing on becoming visible, along with the host, Joey Orson. A young male, sharp, dark-haired and with the brightest, whitest teeth I had ever witnessed. Clarissa described him with a simple series of entranced hums. I thought that was incredibly helpful.

   Maybe that was why my appearance on the panel was abruptly cancelled. My alien visage was perhaps too much of a contrast to his perceived perfection. Humans didn’t find Hork-Bajir particularly attractive, for whatever bizarre reason. I always saw us as a very appealing race visually, but probably every race has such biases in their own favour…

   (We’re right though, of course.)

   Wait… I was distracting myself with the images in my mind of some females that I had seen recently. Now was not a good time for that.

   Orson introduced the show, went through the usual stuff as I braced myself for my name to be called. But first, he introduced his other guest. Apparently, his panel appearance _wasn’t_ cancelled.

   He looked eerily familiar and that immediately yanked my attention. He had very short hair, a begrudged look. His jaw was large, strong. He was the perfect stereotype of an aging war veteran. Where had I seen him before?

   “I’m proud to introduce war veteran and bestselling author,” Orson spoke. “Lieutenant Benjamin Matthews.”

   My mind scrambled. I had to be certain that I heard the name correctly, but when his grinning face reappeared on the screen, I knew that my ears were not lying. I jerked in the spot, turned my eyes away from the camera and into the small crowd behind them. I saw Clarissa, one hand pressed against the top of her head, a confused look in her eyes. She urged me with hand signals to remain focused.

   I tried, but I found it incredibly hard to do given the new circumstances. My research on the man had been limited since Toby first spoke of him to me, but nothing that I had read had improved my opinion of him.

   Then I felt physically ill when I remembered the tragedy that had just occurred in Yellowstone. Of all the Humans on the entirety of Earth, why was this one chosen to appear on the show with me? The man who ordered the slaughter of numerous Hork-Bajir prisoners in the latter days of the war?

   That was why my appearance had been cancelled. I was utterly disgusted.

   “And joining us as well is Taku Kelmut!”

   My face turned up on the screen, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief. Seeing that, I pulled back the emotion, retreated it to the back of my mind and corrected my appearance. Orson and Matthews looked on curiously, but neither seemed entirely surprised by my initial reaction.

   “I, oh… Hello.” I squeaked. Far from the confident, powerful tone I had rehearsed.

   In fact, everything rehearsed was out of the window. Long gone.

   “Taku, firstly, I’d like to share my condolences for what happened yesterday in Yellowstone. It was an appalling act of terrorism and the nation is grieving for the thirteen killed and their families. It must be a tough time for you.”

   I grew aware enough to realise that Orson was the one speaking. My eyes were still glued on the despicable Human sat to his left. “It’s… yes, tough. I suppose. The…”

   Words were tumbling without meaning. It was almost as if I had no control as my brain stuttered and stalled. I had to fix it. I couldn’t fail here.

   The two Humans that I could only see on a flat screen could sense my puzzlement. Orson tried to settle out the awkwardness.

   “It’s great to have you on, Taku. With Toby Hamee missing I think it’s important for the Hork-Bajir to have representation, especially when a tragedy like this comes around. Obviously though, it might be a little overwhelming and we understand that.”

   I was already losing. They were patronising me, pitying me and I’d barely gotten a sentence in. It was heading for failure.

   I reached a hand down to my knees and squeezed, the claws digging in under the skin. It pulled me up. “It’s disgusting what happened to my people,” I spoke, raising my voice back to what was expected. “And unfortunately it’s something that happens far too often. There are certain people out there who want to hurt us or to get rid of us entirely. They have used the _Horvallack Document_ farce as an excuse to murder my brothers and sisters and what do we do about it? Wyoming State Government wants to remove the reserve status of Yellowstone and allow any thug with a weapon into our home. And, by the way, I don’t want yesterday’s massacre to take over what was meant to be a discussion on the Yellowstone debate. I won’t let that sink under the radar.”

   That was much better. Maybe now they wouldn’t talk down to me like a pitiful child. It certainly ripped the smile from Matthews’ face.

   However, he was quick to respond in a calm, strong voice. “Don’t worry, Mr Kelmut, it won’t slip under the radar and I’ll make sure of that. And before I start I’d like to first make it clear that, though I disagree with you on Yellowstone, I’m absolutely sickened by what happened to the Hork-Bajir yesterday, despite what my detractors might say. I think they’re wonderful people and the only ones that would hurt them are those with sick, twisted minds.”

   I wasn’t sure I could believe him. Maybe that was my bias or lack of proper research on him. Either way, nothing would dissolve the disgust I had towards him. Of all the people to condemn the murder of Hork-Bajir…

   I noticed my face on the camera again. I looked incredibly angry, so I relaxed my facial muscles to bring it back to normal. Tried to.

   “But,” Matthews continued. “It does bring up a big problem. It’s a problem that’s always been there. The Hork-Bajir don’t belong in Yellowstone and they never have. It’s a reserve! The whole point of a reserve is not to put new species in! Especially a species that we know nothing about, dropped on our homes by invaders that were unleashed upon us by pokerface nutjobs! I mean, my god, you should have seen the news stories the day after the race was revealed to the public! Conspiracy nuts went crazy about how they were right all along about the New World Order and the reptilians from outer space! You think that mind-set just goes away after some guided tour? No! Why should we put Yellowstone at risk to house a race that is going to be constantly threatened with bombs by these nuts?!”

   I found some space to chime in before he continued his impassioned rant. “Believe me, I have seen these people myself, both in online interactions and on occasion when I’m out on trips. I can only imagine what things were like when the war ended but I’m happy that at least some progress has been made. We haven’t seen Yellowstone torn to shreds, we have-”

   “Yes we have!”

   “… Haven’t see-”

   “Have you seen the data that just came out?” He interrupted.

   I felt another wave of frustration, but decided to let him play his game. “Which data?”

   “The data released just last week by the EPF that shows the amount of damage that Hork-Bajir have caused in Yellowstone since they arrived,” He lifted up a pad of A4 paper, presumably with the data within. “How they damage the trees, destabilise the ecosystem, interef-”

   “Mr Matthews,” I grumbled, shaking my head, “Mr Matthews, The EPF is not a group that has ever put out any credible studies and they’ve always had an anti-extra-terrestrial bias.”

   He glared into the camera. “Are you saying that all this data is just wrong?”

   I had noticed the host was letting us continue for a while, but he had to pull the reigns in at some point, and he did so as Matthews was about to continue his list. “Gentlemen, please. Deep breaths.”

   I did just that, closing my eyes briefly for some respite.

   “Taku,” Orson began. “Do yesterday’s events go some way to proving your point, that the Hork-Bajir need the protection of a national park?”

   I couldn’t play into Matthews’ hands. He was sat back now, waiting for me to make the next mistake, ready to pounce. “There are many reasons that we need to maintain the park’s status, Joey, not only for our sake but for the park itself. Mr Matthews can come on here with his discredited data and-”

   “Discredited?!” Matthews burst, waving the file in the air. “This was released last week! Nobody has discredited it!”

   Joey tried to bring order back. “Ben, I’ll let you respond when Taku’s finished.”

   Matthews looked angered, but agreed to remain quiet. I continued, “Mr Matthews can bring up any fabricated statistics he wants, but all credible studies on the park have come back saying that our impact is minimal. In fact, our presence there has only helped by bringing the park more money to better handle tourism and raise awareness for national parks around the world.”

   “Your response?” Joey Orson asked of Matthews.

   “Yeah,” He perked up in his seat. “I can’t believe, really _cannot_ believe that you would just off-hand claim that this study has no basis in reality, Taku. Have you actually read this paper?”

   “No, I haven’t, but I know enough abo-”

   “And you, sir, have the gall to dismiss it! You see, Joey, this is what really riles me up. These guys go on these big tirades on radio and television about how persecuted they are and how everybody should feel sorry for them, but they never want to hear an opposing view, they don’t want to hear the _actual_ facts.”

   “When did I ever go on a tirade about how persecuted I was?!” I forced.

   “Have you even heard your own interviews?! I remember hearing your interview on WABC where you spent no less than twenty minutes rambling about how everybody is out to get you and take you from your homes. That sounds like a pretty big persecution complex to me!”

   “I don’t set out to be persecuted,” I huffed. “I do what’s best for my people and that sometimes means telling hard truths! I can’t mention that people are out to hurt us? The man who killed thirteen yesterday was a member of the APHR, a group formed solely to put Human rights above ours.”

   I cringed at my own stupidity. I had slipped into a trap.

   And he really pounced. “I knew it! I knew it! This has been your tactic all along. _Oh, everybody is out to hurt us_. Listen, Taku, this guy was what is generally known as a _nutjob_. The thing about nutjobs is that you can’t use them to generalise groups of people, such as the APHR. I’ve supported the APHR on many occasions. Why? Because they make good points! Why should we bend over backwards at every step to accommodate you and accept blame when anything goes wrong? I knew you would milk this tragedy to put forward your own agenda, and your agenda is to convince everybody else that they owe you something! Listen up, Taku: It’s. Not. Your. Land!”

   All the while I was cursing myself for falling into the trap that I had deliberately attempted to avoid. Now, I was on the defensive. “It’s not our land, but it’s our home. We don’t expect you to take all the blame and bend over backwards. What I ask is that we don’t make it easier for evil people to go on murder sprees!”

   “Hey, Taku,” He spoke. It came across as a sarcastic whispering as he leaned forward towards the camera. “You know who’s to blame for what happened yesterday? If anybody, it’s the Andalites! The Andalites who tried to pull us into some new space war, hoping nobody would notice! Now they threaten to break the allegiance. Instead of blaming a group of passionate people who want their opinions to matter just a little, why don’t you blame the Andalites for constantly screwing us over all these years?!”

   He wasn’t letting up. I couldn’t let him steamroll me like he was, nor could I risk antagonising the Andalites.

   “I don’t want to blame anyone!” I replied, coming closer to shouting than I would have appreciated. I’m not here to discuss that! I’m here to discuss Yellowstone. Why can’t we remain on the topic that was agreed when I was asked to come on?”

   Matthews raised his hands, palms up in frustration. “Yeah, okay. Don’t want to answer that one, huh?”

   Joey Orson chimed in again with a golden chuckle - Golden entertainment for the viewers. “I can see it’s not going to get any less heated in here, but I want to keep it under some control, gentlemen. Taku, I understand that you want to discuss Yellowstone, but you must understand the magnitude of yesterday’s events. You don’t want to discuss it?”

   My claw dug deeper into my knee. Was the host part of this, too? “Well every time I bring it up, Mr Matthews here will accuse me of a victim complex. I’d rather stick to the subject that I’ve been focused on for these last few months.”

   “Fine by me.” Matthews shrugged with smug smile. Clearly, he was feeling victorious.

   “Okay,” Joey said. “In that case, I want to ask you, Ben: If we were to remove the reserve status of Yellowstone Park, what do you predict will happen in the following years?”

   Yes, the host was in on it. This was two-on-one, effectively.

   Matthews smiled, brimming with confidence. “Well, not much, probably. Obviously there are plans to build a new town in the northern region of Yellowstone, should it lose its reserve licence, and improved roadways will be built. You see, Joey, Taku will have you believe that, as soon as this proposal goes through, they’ll be kicked out. It’s that persecution thing again! But, Taku,” He continued directly to me through the screen. “Have you _seen_ TV? How ‘bout the internet?”

   I narrowed my eyes, tracing in on the point he was going to make while withholding my building agitation.

   “People love you guys! Kids have cereals with Horks on the package! They’ve appeared in basically every TV show! The main charity for you guys is one of the biggest around! What, do you think that as soon as this passes we’ll throw you in concentration camps? Gimme a break…”

   “Of course I don’t think that,” I snapped. “My biggest fear is that our home is shrunk so much that my people are forced to move into Human habitat.”

   He scoffed. “Just because we’re building one town means that we’re going to build another New York next door?!”

   “Don’t be ridiculous,” I snorted in return. “More roadways, gas stations, hotels. Buildings that will replace a patch of trees here and there… The homes of my people, the pl-”

   “Homes!” He slammed, cutting me off abruptly. “You keep saying homes like it’s some right we just gave to you the moment you fell off the spaceship! Listen to me: This is America. We don’t just give homes away. You earn a place to live! You work hard, do your part for our great nation and _then_ you get a home.”

   I tried to push my way back into the pulpit, but each time my attempts were bulldozed.

   “You see, this is another problem!” He raved, growing ever more intense. “Why should we just give you our land?! And not just any land, but Yellowstone?! One of the best houses in town! What did you do to earn it, to eat from our trees and take our land hostage?! You don’t work, you don’t pay taxes! You do nothing, and you expect us, the hard-working Americans who struggle every day to pay their bills, to feel any sympathy when we try to take something back!”

   I couldn’t be meek in my reply. He was showing genuine passion and I needed to counter that with just as much bravado. “And what do you suggest?! Do you want my people to go to work and pay taxes? Is that the only way you’ll accept us living on American soil?”

   He was momentarily flustered, lifting up his arms and shoulders as if searching for a cogent reply. “Well… maybe it’s something we could look into! Why should we be so averse t-”

   “You’re honestly saying that my people could be put to work?!” I blasted, trying to force my way into the attack position for the first time. “You’re saying they should be made to manual labour?! What jobs?! Hedge trimmers for local towns? Are they going to organise shopping carts at Wal-marts? Benjamin, do you truly believe that that’s a reasonable solution?!”

   “Why not?! Why is that such a bad thing for the Hork-Bajir to work, to give something back to the communities they’ve been living off for a decade?!”

   “What kind of salaries would they expect?” I instantly threw back.

   He had to ponder that one, too. “They would receive reasonable payment if th-”

   “What’s reasonable payment?”

   “Can I finish a sentence?!” He shrieked. The smug grin had long disappeared. Now it was my turn. “They would receive reasonable payment if they help out in local communities and show us all that they’re not just taking us for a ride!”

   Orson was sensing the emotions rising to another peak. “Ben, I’d just like to clarify: You think that it would be a good idea to allow Hork-Bajir the option to work?”

   “I don’t see a problem with that,” Matthews replied, clearly less confident than before. “It would show that they’re at least willing to repay some of the debt they’ve garnered.”

   “What’s reasonable payment?” I demanded again. I was happy for him not to answer again. A non-answer would grant me the little victory.

   “Can we shut this guy up? I can’t say anything without him butting in!” Matthews requested.

   I smiled. He clearly didn’t want to answer.

   Orson spoke to me. “Taku, let’s hear from Ben, then we can have your response.”

   “Thank you!” Matthews groaned. “Now, as I was about to say, Yellowstone has been damaged massively over the last decade since the Hork-Bajir arrived. They’ve stripped trees, restricted animal ranges and cordoned off massive areas that nobody else is allowed into, under the orders of Toby Hamee. Why? Who knows? Whatever! These are the best options, I think: One, we give them the option to work and give something back to the areas they’ve destroyed; Two, take away the protected status of the area, like the State Government wants so that they can build on it; Or three, get the Hork-Bajir out of Yellowstone! Put them somewhere else where they won’t cause massive damage like they have in Wyoming! Taku is being just like Toby was: stubborn. Stubborn and blind to the facts!”

   “Your response, Taku?” Orson offered.

   “A couple points, Joey,” I calmly began. “Mr Matthews says that we would receive reasonable payment. It’s very telling that he won’t explain what said _reasonable payment_ is, but his words imply that earning somewhere to live is alone an adequate payment. He cle-”

   “That’s not what I said!” He injected.

   “I let you finish. Please grant me the same courtesy.”

   He laughed at that derisively. I let him.

   I continued, “He probably knows that giving my people a salary is ultimately pointless because they have no concept of money. Nor do they understand taxes or savings, or anything like that. Nor would I _want_ them to understand. Because money has no value to Hork-Bajir, they would effectively be working for nothing. It wouldn’t work.”

   “You don’t want them to understand money,” Matthews spat. “Tell you what, Taku, _Mr Seer_ , why don’t we introduce these ideas to them so that they could actively contribute to the economy like every other American? I mean, that’s what you want to be, right? You’re living on our soil, after all!”

   “What would my people do with money?!”

   “What would they do?!” He laughed. “You know how much stuff we _give_ to you every year?! Education, first aid kits, tools. We have charities donating thousands of blankets every year! Why don’t we start charging for these things?!”

   “Because the people who give those things to us do it voluntarily!” I responded. “We can’t force people to sell things. They want to help my people thrive in a world that is unfamiliar and we are forever grateful for their kindness.”

   He huffed. “Well, you’re certainly thriving. They estimate that the Hork-Bajir population has risen by about fifty percent since 2003 alone! If this keeps going, Yellowstone will be full in less than thirty years! You don’t need charity! The war was a decade ago, Taku! You need to stop scrounging off of peoples’ sympathy!”

   I could have chastised him from repeating the sympathy accusation, but the stat he raised needed to be immediately clarified. “The population _has_ risen by fifty percent since 2003, but that’s not down to reproduction. The study that suggested that figure did not factor out refugees delivered by the Andalites. Many Hork-Bajir were still being rescued and brought to the park from remaining Yeerk ships and strongholds up until 2009. If you look solely at reproduction, it is well known by through Hork-Bajir knowledge and Human study that we have a reproductive limit of about two children per couple. When the Arn designed us, they designed us on a planet where we had no predators and so we had to be self-sustaining. Not only did they create us with a reproductive limit, but they also created us to sustain the planet’s trees and ecosystems. We were _designed to maintain and improve the environment_ , another reason that your idea of us destroying Yellowstone is utter nonsense.”

   “Look,” He sighed. “You can disagree all you want, but at the end of the day, the studies say otherwise.” He lifted up the paper. He was pushing in the last words and avoiding more discussion.

   “Agree to disagree,” Orson chuckled, looking down at his notes. “Taku, you’ve been quoted as saying that the biggest danger, were these towns to be built or expanded, would be the roads and traffic. Now Governor Mitchell has responded to such concerns, saying that roads will be distinguishable and guarded against the surrounding environment. Do you think that there will still be an issue even if that goes ahead?”

   As I watched the screen, the three of us lined up on the screen in square windows, I noticed Matthews’ posture change. A smile even threatened to emerge. I ignored it and answered, “Of course! Most of my people have no experience with roads, let alone giant multi-lane freeways. If roads were built through Yellowstone, my people will be around it. Maybe an education programme will be put in place, but I fear that accidents will occur and might even be fatal. What we need to remember, as well, is that Governor Mitchell - with his wife, the state treasurer – has been pushing for these changes since he took over from Governor Lakeston last January. Trying to convince people that these roads will be made safer is nothing but an attempt to dampen the counter-reaction.”

   Matthews shook his head. “I suppose you would know a lot about this issue, Kelmut.”

   “I’ve been looking into this proposal ever since it became apparent to me last year,” I replied incredulously. “Of course I would know a lot about it.”

   “Yeah,” He hummed, the smile on his face growing worryingly into a big grin. “I’ve heard some of your interviews. You talk about the problem of Hork-Bajir road safety a lot and you usually bring up the same example. That is, an individual named Pluk Mett who was injured in a road accident not too long ago.”

   “Okay... Is there an issue?”

   “Could you tell us how and where Pluk came about this accident, Taku?”

   I looked to the side, stalling for a second while I attempted to figure out what was going on. I caught a glimpse of Clarissa looking on from behind the big camera. She was as confused as I was. However, her confusion was based on my hesitation.

   I had to say something. “He was hit by a van while crossing the road.”

   “Where?”

   Things had changed dramatically quickly. Chills coursed up my back. Something was wrong. “Why does it matter? He was hit by a va-”

   “Why won’t you answer the question!”

   “Because it’s irrelevant!” I argued! “He was hit by a van because he was crossing a road without adequate knowledge of basic road safety!”

   Matthews laughed and it made things so much worse. “You aren’t going to answer, I know.”

   “Taku,” Orson said. “Are you going to answer?”

   My annoyance at our host was growing. He hadn’t pressed Matthews to answer _my_ earlier questions.

   “I…” The correct words weren’t there.

   “Here, let me make it easier for you,” Matthews boasted. “We recently found some footage from Cheyenne. It may look familiar. Do you have the clip, Joey?”

   My jaw dropped. Surely, he didn’t have footage!

   But there it was. Our faces and windows disappeared, replaced by a single larger window filled by black-and-white security camera footage. A Cheyenne street, the lowest floor of a couple office buildings visible.

   Matthews narrated the clip in a studied fashion. “This is downtown Cheyenne. You can just see Taku Kelmut leaving the building. Seems in a bit of a rush…”

   And there I was. I could just make out my distinctive frame stomping angrily past Humans dotted here and there, crossing the road.

   “He’s over the road. And… there! Coming up behind now is the Hork-Bajir named Pluk Mett. The one Taku always mentions.”

   Surely enough, he appeared from the doors of the same building I emerged from, his huge body unmistakeable.

   “And now we see that Taku has crossed the road. Pluk starts to follow. He’s on a patch of grass now. He turns to look back at Pluk…”

   The white van shot in from the left of the footage. Pluk was gruesomely slammed and thrown to the sidewalk.

   The clip stopped. When my face reappeared on the screen, all I wanted to do was hide. My tail had found its way to my hand.

   “What we saw there,” Matthews started to explain. “Was Taku Kelmut leading another Hork-Bajir onto a busy road in the state capitol. The same Hork-Bajir that he’s now using to garner sympathy for his cause and convince people that we shouldn’t build roads in Yellowstone.”

   What could I do? I couldn’t deny that it ever happened. I couldn’t prove that it wasn’t a deliberate attempt to create a martyr for the cause.

   It could have been the end. Everything gone in a six-second flash.

   “Anything to say, Taku?”

   I turned to Clarissa for reassurance. She had her mouth covered by both hands. She had nothing to give.

   “I… It’s… I wasn’t trying to, ugh…”

   My throat strained, tightened and then, with a horrible pulsing sensation, loosened. As I coughed out the words, I found that my Human voice simply wasn’t working. I couldn’t keep it up! My throat went back to producing the more guttural, rough Hork-Bajir voice. I tried to correct it.

   “I didn’t do it on… purpose,” I stuttered. “Pluk was _vifmaf_ … following me when I was _ighut_ … walking.”

   They looked on, amused and confused as I lost my train of thought and blurted out words from my native language.

   “Can’t understand you.” Orson replied nonchalantly.

   Matthews, on the other hand, was having a great time. “I knew that voice was fake. I’ve never heard a Hork-Bajir sound like that before.”

   “Okay,” I mumbled, breathe heavy. I paused for a few seconds and brought back some composure. However, I decided that the Human voice was a lost cause. “Pluk Mett was injured in Cheyenne and I was there. I had just had a meeting that hadn’t gone smoothly and I was not in a good state of mind. I left the building, and my friend followed. It was not a deliberate attempt to have him injured, but a mistake on my part.”

   “Why was he even there?!” Matthews demanded.

   At this stage, I couldn’t win. Everything before was irrelevant now. All I could do was hope to leave with just some reputation to hold on to.

   “I wanted Pluk there for extra security and help when things didn’t go right. He is a good friend of mine and I never wished to see him hurt!”

   But Matthews was done with me. There was no need for him to press me personally any further. The damage was done. However, he did address the viewers with a stinging rant to finish. “This is Toby Hamee’s replacement! Ha, what a joke! You, sir, are not only a liar and a total nutjob, but you are also a manipulative, deplorable failure! To the people of America, everybody watching, _this_ is who we have in Toby Hamee’s place. Pseudo-representative Taku Kelmut, a disgrace who has lied to the American people in order to push for an agenda that hurts the great citizens of Wyoming! Just think of that clip the next time you hear him begging for sympathy on your local radio network. _If_ any will have him. If this is the next representative of the Hork-Bajir, then my god, I feel sorry for them.”

   My tail oozed purple blood over my claws. The bubbling was ferocious within me.

   ((Don’t let him have that last word.))

   My head jerked as a voice – a real voice – popped into my head. It was familiar.

   Whatever it was, it calmed the bubbling and healed the wound. I sat up and put up one final defence.

   “I can assure the people watching that I am _not_ a liar. I did _not_ walk my friend into that road. I am _not_ playing you for sympathy, and I implore you not to listen to this man, who escaped justice after he slaughtered numerous Hork-Bajir at the end of the war and repeatedly lied about it! He was stripped of his titles, his ranks - which this network seems to have forgotten – and was disgraced by the US military for multiple accounts of disobeying orders!”

   He tried to protest, but with my natural Hork-Bajir tone, I was easily able to wash over him and eliminate him from the conversation.

   “I have been far from perfect in my position, I admit. Maybe I’m too young, but when Toby left there was nobody else to take her position as representative of my race. I will do whatever I can for my people, and sure I’ll make mistakes along the way. I have done, and I sincerely apologise for that. But let this be certain: I will not let liars like _you_ get in my way. Despite what people might have heard, I am hugely appreciative for what Humans have done for me and my people and I would love nothing more than to be that knot that ties us together as allies and friends.”

   Matthews was shaking his head, but it was of some comfort that his cocky smile had faded somewhat. “I did nothing of the sort, friend. The courts showed that.”

   “Well, they were wrong.”

   Our segment came to an end, and probably at just the right time. It was fortunate that we weren’t in the same room…

   Not that my pacifist Hork-Bajir nature would compel me to violence. It wouldn’t stop me intimidating him a whole lot more than I could over a screen.

   “Okay, okay,” Joey Orson said, exhaling with relief that our time was up. “That’s time. Thanks both of you for what turned out to be a… heated conversation.”

   Matthews gave a reluctant laugh. I didn’t bother.

   Orson ended the conversation and we said our angry goodbye’s. When the camera switched off, the first thing I did was gaze around the room. Even as Clarissa approached with great concern, I continued to visually investigate the area around me.

   She held me first, as if I needed immediate comfort. Then she tended to my knee and the tip of my tail, both shredded with claw marks but quickly healing.

   “Taku, hey! Are you even listening?”

   I heard that and gave up searching. “Yes. Sorry.”

   “What… Why are you looking around like you lost something.”

   I scratched at my chin with a bloody claw. “Oh, nothing.”

   Clarissa put both hands on my cheeks and moved my face into line with hers. “Are you okay, Taku?”

   I nodded and breathed in, sitting high in my seat, unwavering. “I’m fine.”

   Then I recalled what I had said to her earlier. Once she had let go of my face, I maintained the gaze with her.

   “I’m not sorry.”

   She must not have known what to say of it at the time. She looked away but with a comforted smile. “You hungry?”

   “Oh, definitely.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

   The dirt felt warmer between my toes here. I curled them, dug them into the foreign substance, noticing the softness, but also the firmness. It was comfortable, just as the air was pleasant as it drifted lazily over my nostrils, bringing with it the supple scent of something I instantly concluded to be edible, but that I had never sniffed before.

   I was home. More so than I ever had been before. I bent my knees and bounced in place, swung my tail in a circle behind me before pouncing forward. Close by was a tree, its bark a lighter shade than what I was used to seeing. That’s where I wanted to be.

   I thought it was close, but I soon realised that my mind was playing tricks on me. It was far, but extraordinarily large. As I ran, my head would slowly lift, higher and higher, my jaw simultaneously dropping lower and lower.

   The tree was beyond enormous. No Earth tree could rival it, and when I eventually came to its side my mind boggled at just what I was seeing. My arms splayed outwards, I lay flat against the surface, vibrating with barely-contained excitement. The luscious scent, the softness of the skin… It was the most beautiful of dreams.

   In my daze, I lost sight of the world around me, swept up in a wave of adoration for this new world. Everything was about me and that tree, connected in such a natural way. But I snapped out of that when the blade on the tip of my tail tapped against something metallic. I blinked down to the offending item, a black, cuboid item stood against the side of the tree.

   I reached down to pull up the hefty block and inspect it. It didn’t seem functional, and judging from the amount of dirt on the upper surface, it had been left for some time. The front was patterned with scales and readings in a strange assembly of symbols that I assumed to be Andalite. I had never learnt the language, so I could not read. However, the scales, all displaying dials ranging from blue to bright red, were somewhere within the blue range.

   I took the whole thing in, memorised every symbol, the position of every dial. Maybe someday I could decipher it, so long as I kept the images in my brain.

   “Fat toes make Taku slow!”

   I looked directly upwards. There Ruga clung to the side of the tree, swaying with adrenalin and the energy of youth. He must have been about twenty feet up into the tree, waiting for me to follow.

   I smirked. “I am still faster than you, Ruga!”

   He took the challenge and began to dart upwards with natural ease, blades digging into the tree. I prepared to launch myself up after him, flattening out my toes and coiling my leg muscles.

   Then there was a scratching sensation on my right upper arm.

   I was back on Earth, the Sun setting slowly towards the horizon as the night offered to creep in. The air was colder, bitter and had a funny taste. The world around me was war-torn, a veteran of an eternal conflict for survival. Amongst that sat my people, huddled around the fire that performed soulfully between us.

   I looked to the person sat to my right who had been scratching at my arm, having seen some dirt. I returned the favour. Partly, though secretly, I was upset that he had woken me from such a vision, but I needed to be present in reality on this particular night.

   The area around me was unfamiliar, a part of the park I had not ventured to previously. I was there to represent my group, as was everybody else who had turned up. They were predominantly war veterans; mothers and fathers of the modern, free Hork-Bajir; and others who had regularly been in contact with Humans or Andalites. Even one who had spent most of the Yeerks’ Earth invasion living with Human doctors in California.

   It was an important meeting in the wake of the recent attack. Everybody was shaken and emotional, but we were comfortable in each other’s presence.

   I didn’t know many there, but the veterans were mostly familiar with each other. They embraced as old friends who had not been in contact for some time. I knew a couple superficially from some of my explorations with Pluk and Ruga in the past, but there was one who I knew quite well.

   Ket had introduced herself to the group, and needless to say that she was greeted like the saviour of every Hork-Bajir present. Then she settled down beside me. I always thought that she saw some of Toby inside of me.

   “That is Purg,” She said, indicating to the male sat on the opposite side of the fire. She had been telling me about everybody there with expert knowledge. “Human friends save Purg from Yeerks.”

   “Most of them here were,” I noted. “Were they _all_ freed by the Animorphs during the war?”

   She shook her head and then pointed to various individuals. “Toby Hamee make free.”

   “So did you.” I insisted.

   Ket smiled and looked down to the ground. “Toby Hamee different. Make good plans. Make Hork-Bajir free!”

   “I’ve always been curious, Ket… What was Toby like as a _kawatnoj_?”

   She lifted her head back and gathered up some memories. “Toby Hamee talk fast. No other _kawatnoj_ to play. When _kawatnoj_ come, Toby Hamee make plans. Toby Hamee never scared. _Yeerks not scare Toby Hamee_ , she say,” Then Ket chuckled to herself. “Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak know… Toby not hide scared feelings from Jara and Ket.”

   “She’s good at hiding those things.” I muttered.

   “Good at hiding.” She added.

   I had shied away from it until that point, but her implication brought up my curiosity to a level I could not contain. “You know she has not left us.”

   She looked me in the eyes, calm and certainty in her own, “Friend Tobias say.”

   “Tobias?”

   Somebody spoke up beside the fire and the crowd quietened. One of the veterans was stood in the center, signalling for our meeting to start.

   “ _Fallana_ ,” He said, looking around to us all. “Humans kill Hork-Bajir. Five, five and three.”

   It wasn’t much of an opening speech. I was too used to Human speeches, by that point…

   There was an atmosphere of mourning after that statement. Ferk, who I was told had stopped the Human that carried out the murders, waited for opinions to come to him.

   “Why?” Somebody called out.

   Ferk turned to look at the person. “Human angry! Say Hork-Bajir bad. Hork-Bajir go home.”

   “Hork-Bajir can’t go home!” Another from the crowd responded.

   Ferk shook his head. “It happen before. Humans kill Hork-Bajir like Yeerk kill Hork-Bajir. Like _Hruthin_.”

   The person to my right replied, “Humans not like Hork-Bajir!”

   “Humans say Hork-Bajir friends!” Someone argued. “Give Hork-Bajir home. Here.”

   This was a mystery, and there was a long pause as people contemplated. To a people so monotonous, such displays of variety in the Human race were baffling.

   “Some Humans bad,” Ferk stipulated. “Some Humans not. _Most_ not.”

   “But Humans kill more! Bad Humans come back!”

   He shook his head to that comment. “Where Hork-Bajir go?! No home!”

   “ _Hruthin_ take Hork-Bajir home!” A female suggested, not far from me.

   “Toby Hamee say!”

   I had to speak up at that point. “The Andalites are going to leave.”

   Every head turned in my direction. The news of the _Horvallack_ document had obviously not crossed the Yellowstone boundary. Ferk turned his whole body and stared hard at me, eyes narrowing.

   “Andalites go?” A female stammered. “With Hork-Bajir?”

   “The Andalite and Human allegiance will fail. Maybe they will stay, but I don’t see how…”

   Ferk walked towards me, passing over the growing flames. I quickly scampered to my own feet, seeing how he was to address me directly and to my face.

   He didn’t speak right away. He stood before me, perhaps a few inches taller and with the presence of wisdom far beyond my own. His eyes were glued to mine as he explored me.

   “Taku Kelmut,” He uttered. “Toby Hamee say of Taku Kelmut.”

   We bowed heads, touched blades. Then he backed away slightly, inviting me to explain what I had said.

   “The Andalites have betrayed the Humans,” I explained. “That is why our people were killed. There are Humans that don’t like Andalites and Hork-Bajir. When the Humans were betrayed, those who don’t like us attacked us.”

   “ _Hruthin_ betray Humans,” Ferk growled. “Ferk not surprised.”

   There were murmurs among the crowd, some unintelligible voices coming over. Finally, somebody spoke to the whole group. “Taku Kelmut speak like Toby Hamee.”

   “Taku Kelmut is like Toby Hamee?” Another added.

   Ferk, clearly somewhat of a deeper thinker, was a little more curious. “Taku know? Taku speak to Humans, to learn that Hruthin betrayed?”

   “Yes. I speak to the Humans regularly. That is how I know.”

   “Taku Kelmut know where Toby Hamee is?”

   I could have taken the reigns, but I had forgotten that Ket Halpak, mother of the Hork-Bajir, was sat beside me. She perked up and spoke, “Toby Hamee will come back. Ket knows.”

   Ferk, deeply respectful, smiled to Ket. “If Ket Halpak knows, then it is true. But when?”

   “Ket not know, but Toby Hamee will never leave Hork-Bajir. While Toby go, Taku Kelmut help. Taku Kelmut is _different_ , like Toby.”

   “So what should Hork-Bajir do?” Ferk asked of me. The way he asked it, though, felt more like a test. He looked over me carefully, judging my character as if Toby and I were side-by-side. With every set of eyes gawking at me, the pressure was on.

   I embraced it wholeheartedly.

   “We should go home.” I suggested.

   Confusion followed and the air bubbled with whispers. Ferk answered for the group with a question which seemed much deeper than maybe it was meant to be. “Where is home?”

   “Our home world, where Hork-Bajir came from. Where Hork-Bajir lived in peace.”

   Ferk scoffed, slapping his tail to the ground in frustration. “Peace before Yeerks come. Now home is not home.”

   “It can still be home,” I insisted. “The Yeerks are gone and we are a protected people.”

   “Protect by Humans,” Somebody else added. “Killed by Humans.”

   “There will be no Humans on our home world.” I countered.

   “So how Hork-Bajir get home?” He demanded again.

   “There are ways to get home,” I reassured. “The Andalites may still take us.”

   “ _Hruthin_ …” He spat, his sentiments reverberating around the fire. “ _Hruthin_ bad for Hork-Bajir! _Hruthin_ bring Yeerks to Hork-Bajir. _Hruthin_ kill Hork-Bajir. Now _Hruthin_ leave!”

   Another male stood up behind Ferk, another veteran. “Prag die before listen to _Hruthin_!”

   “Bring pain!” Came another.

   I had to handle the situation better. Ket had raised herself up behind me, silently lending her support, which seemed to kill off some of the dissent.

   “The Andalites have done bad things, yes! But now, they are our best chance of getting home. They unleashed the Yeerks and killed many Hork-Bajir in the process. We won’t forget that.”

   “Never forget.” Ferk asserted.

   “But it was war. Bad things always happen in war. Bad things will happen if we keep _acting_ like we are in a war! We cannot distrust everyone.”

   “Not want to trust _Hruthin_.”

   I accepted that they would be stubborn, but I so desperately wanted to get through to them. “When the Andalites leave, what will stop the Humans from hurting us more? We will have no way out. Our protection has always rested on the Human-Andalite alliance, so who knows what will happen when they leave for good? Do you know that the Humans want to build a highway though the middle of Yellowstone?”

   From their reaction, I could tell that they didn’t.

   “A big road, a Human town,” I continued. “They will build it on our trees! On our lakes! Our homes here on Earth. We cannot be free here, and the Andalites could be the only way out.”

   That needed to soak in, but they seemed to understand well enough. Ferk still disliked the idea on a very personal level, as did various others. People were split.

   “What would you do, Ferk?” I asked, turning the question back around to him.

   He grunted, kicked uncomfortably at the dirt. “Taku Kelmut is seer, like Toby Hamee. Like Dak Hamee…”

   “That does not make me smarter than you. I’m not here to dictate.”

   Ferk struck me as the type who knew that very much. I could just imagine him in a heated debate with Toby before a Yeerk base raid back in the war days. It was admirable, but something probably not so rare.

   “Trust _Hruthin_ …” He shuddered, still struggling to think in such a way. The natural Hork-Bajir leniency had long since been eroded for them, as demonstrated by the reaction on all the faces around me. The _Hruthin_ were the enemy. He switched his focus to Ket, who was still stood by my side. “What does Ket Halpak say? Ket Halpak remember how _Hruthin_ kill Ket _raggap_? _Hruthin_ kill Rig Halpak. _Hruthin_ kill Seerow Hamee.”

   “Ket want to go home! _Hruthin_ have big ship! Ship can take Hork-Bajir home.” She replied.

   Ket’s words carried more weight than mine. After all, I was a naïve youth, and she was our collective mother. Ferk was conflicted, biting on his fingers as he thought things over. Meanwhile, the crowd began to talk of home. I’d gotten them.

   I squeezed Ket’s hand and dropped my head sideways so that my headblades rested gently on her neck. She laughed like she had done nothing to deserve my gratitude.

   Ferk was coming around, convinced by the positive attitude of everybody else. “What can Taku do so _Hruthin_ take Hork-Bajir home?” He asked me.

   “I will talk to them. I will search through every contract and agreement… Everything that I know, so that we get what we want.”

   As the Sun finally set, and the only light around was the glow of the continuing flames, my people talked of home. Stories were told of the great trees and calm lands that had been passed down through memory. We avoided talk of the Yeerks as much as we could, but the Andalites were very much a point of discussion.

   My interactions with them had come only across a telephone, but I had to take it a step further. I could get in touch with Drammut-Harroumar-Geffit again and hope that he could connect me up with the Extra-planetary Council. I would need to read up on all the documentation I could find regarding Hork-Bajir protection.

   Ket remained by my side. I explained my plans to her and she would pretend to understand absolutely everything. It was a fruitless exercise, but speaking my thoughts to her was like explaining it to myself. It sounded good, sounded logical. Part of me even started to believe that our dream was possible. When my theorising was over, all my ideas drained, Ket turned to lighter conversation and enlightened me with stories of different trees she had discovered and the regular antics of Toby’s brother.

   I longed to return to that great tree. I couldn’t resist picturing it all night in my head. There were no Humans, no Andalites. Only Hork-Bajir to tend to them, to live up high in the branches without a care.

   I could take us there. And I didn’t need Toby’s help. That was her intention all along, I was sure of it. That’s why she left me alone…

   When morning came, the brightness of the returned Sun opened my eyes. I began to yawn, only to feel a strange sensation move across my neck. Something light and brittle. I looked down.

   I was coated in dead leaves. They lay across my body and around it. Confused, I sat up, shooing them off of my torso and legs. The fire had long died out, and the rest of my people were just stirring, some still in slumber and others just ready to get up. Nobody was around to coat me in leaves.

   Then it struck me. “Oh, Relk. Maybe you’re right.”


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

   It took three days to find everything we thought we needed. File after file of paper created a wall of white on my desk. I had to send Jason out three times to find more staples. Eventually, we started using binders. The hardest part was reading the damned things.

   Contracts, agreements, statements, proposals… They all blurred into one, a meandering diatribe of politics and negotiations with very little substance and mountains of mindless rambling.

   For those three days, I had parked myself in my office chair and barely moved. Clarissa was kind enough to bring me lunch now and again, but neither food nor exercises were my priority. With the world spinning rapidly around me, I needed to act as quick as possible. So what if my back grew sore and my belly started to look a little misshapen?

   We were after anything that could help us. I had a vague recollection of some of the contracts and their terms, but I needed it in writing.

   Jason and Jonathan had helpfully lent their hands to the task, and they joined me in my office for a few hours each day going through their own piles.

   “These are all repeats!” I heard Jonathan complain, tossing a whole pile of paper into the trash bin. Not without considerable strain.

   “Sorry, I must have printed them twice.” I muttered half-heartedly, still with my eyes buried in a 2002 file translated from Andalite to English.

   “Ah!”

   A raised voice? It must have been interesting. Jonathan and I raised our heads to Jason, who had created the disturbance, sat in his corner by a potted plant.

   “What is it, Jason?” Jonathan asked.

   “The one you asked for yesterday!” He proclaimed. “The document following on from the original Andalite-Hork-Bajir allegiance proposal. This one has the terms you’re looking for!”

   He jumped up and handed the file over. I took it eagerly and flicked through to the pages I believed to be relevant.

   “Excellent!” I called. “Does it cover action requirements for the Andalites?”

   “Pretty sure!”

   I grinned, more ecstatic than I had been for a while. “Great! This could be the last piece we need… Thank you both so much for helping.”

   “Our pleasure!” Jonathan giggled.

   “So,” Jason said. “You going to explain to us what the plan is?”

   I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair, resting the file on my belly. “The plan is secure our allegiance with the Andalites. That’s all. I’m going to compile a report of all previous agreements and contracts that will ensure that work on our home world is continued and that that we will still be guaranteed safe transportation once it’s completed.”

   “Think they’ll go with it?” Jason questioned.

   “I don’t know much about the Andalites…” I admitted. “But I’ve heard that they are an honourable race. However, recent affairs may suggest otherwise…”

   Jonathan pursed his lips. “Yeah… Well, maybe you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

   I shook my head and pulled myself back over the desk, chuckling. “My hopes are high and not much will change that! Do you know if Clarissa is around?”

   Jason replied, “Last I saw, she was doing her nails in the staff lounge.”

   “What a surprise. Could you send her to me, please?”

   The pair went away for their lunch, but I stayed to continue working. While I waited for Clarissa, I took notes from the allegiance document with feverish enthusiasm. On occasion I would pull myself away and consider whether I really was going in the right direction. Failure could be dramatic, not only for myself but for all of my people, but I ploughed on. I thought it would work and so my motivation kept me on track. I found the little bits I needed and organised them into a logically ordered list, double-checking it to make sure my planning was airtight. There was only one part of it that could have backfired, and that was the next step.

   Clarissa came through the door, handbag full of grooming products clutched to her side. “Hey Taku!” She greeted. “Want your nails done, huh?”

   “No.” I sighed. “I actually, uh… oh…”

   She wouldn’t take no for an answer and immediately got to the task. Nail file at the ready, she came around the desk and took my right hand. “God, it’s been, like, far too long since you last had your nails done.”

   “But I don’t want my n-”

   She gave me the stern Clarissa gaze. It was going to be done, so I simply had to accept.

   “Well, okay… What I _actually_ called you in for was to ask you a favour.”

   “Like what?” She chirped, eyes focused on my claws.

   “I need you to get in touch with Bill and give him these instructions,” I said, handing over a sheet of paper. “I would do it myself, but I need to call Drammut and make arrangements for these talks, if they even take place. This could take me all day.”

   She put down the file for a moment and looked over the notes curiously, mumbling to herself as she skimmed through the lines. Then something caught her attention. “Inform the manager of _CrescentCreations_ that they will no longer be required to dedicate filming around the zone where the proposed highway will be built? Why?”

   “I think they’ve done all they can do to raise awareness. I despised their documentary at first, but it has been useful. I would also like to thank the company for the cooperation.”

   She shook her head, perplexed. “If they’re doing a good job, shouldn’t we, you know, keep them there?!”

   “We shouldn’t push it too hard,” I replied. “People will become bored of hearing the same thing over and over. _CrescentCreations_ can do what they want now, so long as they don’t go back to harassing everybody.”

   “So what next? We need to keep talking about it else we’ll lose this whole thing! It can’t be long before they decide to change Yellowstone.”

   Even in the midst of this increasingly in-depth chat, she started on my nails again.

   “I will play my part, as usual. I will book more slots, interviews… That sort of thing.”

   Then she shot me an irritated look. “Have you seen what it’s like out there? Since the whole Orson interview?”

   “No,” I shrugged. “How does it look?”

   She flicked back her perfect hair and began, “Well, it’s totally crazy! Your face is on every news station across the country, because, you know, it was a pretty big thing, that interview. It’s annoying how many times I’ve seen clips of it. Anyway, there are people saying that you’re trying to manipulate them, trying to stop what they want for personal gain. They say that you led Pluk into the road on purpose… I even heard somebody say that you paid the van driver.”

   I huffed, unimpressed. “So, on the whole, pretty negative.”

   To my shock, she grinned wide. “There are some people that say you did pretty good.”

   “Better than the last times.” I summarised.

   “You probably should choose your appearances carefully, though,” She advised, beginning on a second claw. “Unless you want to get into some arguments.”

   “They wouldn’t stand a chance.” I chuckled.

   “Yeah, because the big pacifist tree-hugger lizard is going to be _so_ intimidating.”

   With use of my left hand alone, I tried to organise things on my desk, understanding that I should make my next move. “I’m going to call Drammut and see if I can get in touch with the Extra-planetary Council.”

   “Oh yeah? How’s that going?”

   “Slow. The Andalites seem to have very little time for me.”

   “They’re more hated than _you_ are.” Clarissa commented.

   “When you infiltrate a race’s military bases and turn them on another force in order to provoke, there’s bound to be some tension. I just hope we can get things settled in time.”

   I pulled the phone over and took Drammut’s number from my sticky note pole (a used kitchen roll I had taped to the side of my desk) and began to dial.

   To my delight, he answered quickly. “Hello?” Came his voice through the phone.

   “Hello, Drammut! This is Taku.”

   “Ah, Taku!” He responded enthusiastically. “I was going to call you later today once I’d gotten my work done!”

   “Oh? You have an office full of paper, too, huh?” I joked.

   “Um, no. I have no use for paper. Paper takes up far too much space. So inefficient. Everything I need is on my computer system.”

   I sighed, though I made sure he couldn’t hear. “Of course…”

   Thankfully, he moved right along. “Taku, after your call yesterday, I managed to get in touch with _Ammarumat_ Jurruf-Treenant-Gurfrow, 3 rd member of the EPC. Due to the recent events surrounding the _Horvallack_ document, he and the rest of the council have been under some pressure lately, so it was hard to convince him to organise something with you.”

   “But you did!”

   “No.”

   “Oh…”

   “I talked to _Ammarumor_ Terrwer-Killmarret-Kreetmig instead and she was much more approachable. I explained to her that you are requesting a meeting between yourself and one of the council members, in order to settle any issues that arise from the likely dissolving of the Andalite-Human alliance.”

   “Any progress with her?”

   “Yes!” He exclaimed. “She raised the issue in a council meeting, and they have decided to send somebody down to speak with you. _Ammarumor_ Cafciyt-Remmurt-Treksill, 6 th member of the council. He is currently the closest member to the solar system, and he wants to meet you in exactly one Earth week. He will also be there to meet with the major Earth leaders, so don’t expect him to host you for long.”

   “That’s understandable, Drammut. Where will I be meeting him?”

   Drammut took his time to find the information. “He will be in Washington D.C. The Andalite Embassy at, uh… hold on, just finding the local time… 9:30am.”

   “That is fine,” I agreed. “Could you pass message back to him that I agree to meet him there at the proposed time?”

   I looked to Clarissa, who had been listening in intently but secretively. I mouthed the words “ _Washington D.C._ ” to her, and she sped into the nearest notebook to begin organising her make-up routines.

   “Done!” Drammut confirmed. “He will reply to me with any extra details necessary and I’ll pass them to you. I will warn you, though, that he will be bringing plenty of security with him.”

   “Is that because of the Human threat? Neither of us is among the Humans’ favourites right now.”

   “Not quite…” Drammut mumbled. “Cafciyt used to fight in the military as a prince during the Yeerk war. He developed a great aversion to Hork-Bajir after numerous fights with those under Yeerk control and has had no experience with a _natural,_ uninfested Hork-Bajir. The security is there because: One, he thinks you might attack him; and two, he will probably try to attack you.”

   “Ah. And this is the best person to meet with me?”

   “Seems to be so.”

   “You’ll wish me luck, won’t you?”

   His hesitation was worrying. “Just don’t make any sudden movements and you’ll be fine.”

   “Ugh, If I survive, I’ll call you back.” I groaned.

   “All the best, Taku Kelmut.”

   “Goodbye Drammut.”

   When I put the phone down, I couldn’t resist the slightest chuckle.

   Clarissa, still busy with my nails, was confused after only hearing my side of the conversation. “If you survive?”

   I shook my head in amused disbelief. “9:30am at the Andalite Embassy, Washington D.C. I’m to meet an Andalite named…” I searched my desk, then sighed. “I didn’t write down his name. Nevermind. Drammut will get back to me soon. This Andalite is part of the Extra-planetary Council and he’s going to be in the capital. He’ll put aside some time to meet me, but apparently he hasn’t had the best experience with Hork-Bajir in the past. A prince during the war.”

   “Is he going to, like, have flashbacks and chop your head off?”

   “Possibly,” I considered, pushing the phone away and replacing it with my laptop. “Though, I hope not. I have more important things to do than to be dead.”

   “It’s okay, I’ll get my mom to stitch your head back on. She’s great with a needle.”

   “I appreciate that,” I grunted. “Did you bring that book that I asked about? I forgot to ask.”

   “Yeah! Yeah, I did.” She said, reaching below to her handbag. She tugged and pulled out a large book with a distinctive black-and-yellow colouring. I relieved her of it and started to flick through the pages. The smell of new books was strangely pleasurable so I inhaled it as much as possible.

   “Thank you.”

   “I was gonna ask,” She spoke. “Why do you want the Dummies Guide to Andalite Language? Are you trying to impress them?”

   “Maybe the Andalites will be more accepting of me if I show that I’ve learnt a bit about their culture,” I explained, settling on a page about the Andalite alphabet. “It’s quite an easy language to get used to. The symbols are unique, don’t you think?”

   She started on another claw. “If I didn’t have time to learn the whole Hork-Bajir language, what makes you think I’d even _try_ with the Andalite language?”

   “Come on,” I laughed, turning the book for her to see. “Don’t those symbols look amazing?”

   She inspected the page. “That one there looks like a rhino’s head.”

   I followed her sight. Indeed, one did seem vaguely similar. I put the book down, deciding that I was too busy to be reading it at that moment and that I wasn’t going to convince my uninterested supervisor. Something piqued my curiosity though. “Hold on, I thought you knew the Hork-Bajir language pretty well!”

   She hummed and puckered her lips as if considering. “ _Reeb nott hama raggap_ Taku Kelmut.”

   “See?”

   “I know the basics.” She stated.

   “Is there much more to it than the basics?”

   “Well, you know, I don’t know _everything_. I don’t even know what _hork bajir_ means.”

   She finished with my right hand. I swivelled in my chair and offered her the other. “We were named after a common saying that we uttered when the first extra-terrestrial races found us. Roughly translated, I think it means _good morning_.”

   She laughed, briefly losing concentration on my hand. “So your race is called _Good Morning_?”

   “That’s what I’ve been told!”

   “So what is Hork-Bajir for afternoon?”

   “ _Rajum_.”

   “So right now you’re a Hork-Rajum.”

   “Please don’t introduce that idea to my people,” I begged sincerely. “They will take you seriously.”

   She winked. “I promise I won’t.”

   I didn’t believe her. “Okay. I’m going to organise some things, get the security team ready for Washington and arrange flights. That should keep me busy for the rest of the day.”

   “Yeah, whatever. Hey, you have to promise me something, too.”

   “What is it?”

   “When you finish work, you go do some exercise,” She ordered, poking a finger against my stomach. “This won’t look good on camera.”

   “Only if you keep your promise.”

   “I will.”

   “Deal.”


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

   I spent the night at a very luxurious hotel before I met _Ammarumor_ Cafciyt-Remmurt-Treksill. Apparantly, the room had been specifically designed with Toby in mind, because of her semi-regular visits to the nation’s capital. Everything was as suited as it could be for an herbivorous bladed extra-terrestrial, and it was the most comfortable room I’d ever stayed in. Even more comfortable than Clarissa’s sofa! There wasn’t a dog licking my face in the morning, either.

   I was not there to enjoy such comforts, though. My mind was abuzz with scenarios that could potentially occur in the Andalite Embassy and I was bordering on a breakdown as I was driven to the location in a black car with heavily tinted windows.  My reputation had grown immensely since the _Orson_ interview, for better or worse, and everybody seemed to recognise me.

   Recognise may not be the right word… Humans have difficulty telling Hork-Bajir apart. The fact that I was in Washington D.C. though, was enough of a clue that I wasn’t from the normal crowd.

   My security team was larger than usual because of this. I had been receiving death threats from various sources, more and more as the _Horvallack_ document was further revealed by the Humans. It was infinitely depressing that I and my people were somehow partly guilty for the Andalite betrayal to a select group of people, but I was told to expect such insanity.

   We dismissed the death threats as little more than provocation, but it was insisted that security was increased nonetheless. It ruined my chances of traversing the capital unseen, which seemed entirely counterintuitive.

   Nothing compared to what I was about to face, though. We arrived at the Andalite Embassy at precisely 9:00am, half an hour before we were scheduled to begin. My security escorted me from my vehicle, surrounded me as I walked towards the abnormal entrance. Camera flashes could be heard past the black suit shoulders of my team. People knew that I was there, but they wouldn’t know why. I had made sure that my intentions were secret. They could discuss conspiracies to their hearts’ content.

   The Andalite building was obviously going to be structured differently to regular Human buildings, and I wasn’t disappointed. It was not as square as I was used to, the walls rounded, bulging up to the top so that it looked like a white raspberry turned upside-down. Entire sections of this “raspberry” were windowed, placed almost at random. Blue lighting ran around the structure in strips, mostly horizontally but one arched flauntingly over the top.

   It was guarded by a large, impenetrable wall, the only way through being a set of gates guarded internally by two rather bulky Andalites. At first, I was curious why they did not carry weapons, but then I noticed the ends of their tails. Weapons were not essential.

   Could they be shot from a distance, especially in the new hostile political climate? It would seem so on initial glance, but as we approached the gates, a low buzz could be heard, and the air between the bars seemed to fizz. It was no ordinary gate, for sure.

   I had seen many pictures of Andalites, so I knew what to expect. I took note of the tail, the centaur-like body form, two stalk eyes that effortlessly surveyed the entire surrounding area and the mouthless faces. I dreaded the thought of life without taste.

   They took a lot more interest in me than the Humans that were escorting me. It was not hard, being about a foot taller than the average Human, but I got the distinct impression that these Andalites, much like Cafciyt, had not dealt too often with Hork-Bajir since the end of the war. They looked at me with at least two eyes each, always alert to every move that I made. Their stares made me want to avoid staring back, so I tried my best to seem like my focus was elsewhere as my team started to display identifications and files.

   I had moved onto waving to nearby, intrigued locals when my entrance request was granted. The gates separated at the middle and gradually opened up to the well-kept outer lands of the embassy. A small path to the main doors was the only exception to the vast waves of grass that engulfed the structure. I saw at least three other Andalites feeding. At least, I thought that was what they were doing. They were also staring.

   I felt very unwelcome.

   Neither one of the security Andalites spoke to me, but I could feel them watching me as we passed through towards the big main doors. Clarissa was by my side, speaking small observations and opinions that nobody really needed to take notice of. By this point in our relationship, I knew that it was there to keep me happy, rather than to point out things absolutely clear to everybody.

   About ten feet from the doorway, a female Andalite (made obvious by a purple-ish shade of hair) stepped through, the doors rapidly zooming open like none I’d ever seen before. She held a small black device in her right hand, its purpose unknown and probably far beyond my technological grasp to comprehend. She hovered it in the air before us and it bleeped twice. Then she retreated it.

   ((Welcome to the Embassy,)) She hummed, slightly lowering her upper body in what I assumed to be part of the Andalite greeting. ((If you could follow me, please.))

   She turned, the door zipping back open before leading us through. I used the opportunity to study the Andalite form from over my lead security’s shoulder. I took note of the movement, the legs and the tail. They seemed so unusual, certainly not like anything from Earth. Strong, but at the same time nimble and sleek.

   In my curiosity, I forgot about the stalk eyes. When I turned my focus upwards, I discovered that one was doing exactly the same to me. Embarrassed, I rubbed at my eyes, pretending that I hadn’t actually been staring. She didn’t seem so self-conscious.

   The building interior was bright, and part of my innate sense thought that I was still outdoors. Two lights shone down from above, like blinding suns, and the ground beneath our feet was almost grassy but with the slightest hints of a synthetic origin. This grass was bluer than Earth grass.

   Not a tree in sight. I was actually disappointed. Instead, there were white pillars reaching to the high ceiling of that first room, four of them around the edges. Two of them were being tampered with by Andalite workers. I could just make out holographical systems sprouting from the sides of the pillars. Of course, those workers took notice of me and my team.

   We passed through that first dome-like room and into one much smaller. I almost ripped over a small white dome placed haphazardly on the floor. The light of the “suns” still, somehow, shone down on us even through the walls. It must have been some form of technology, some trick of the eye. On the walls not too far from the bright lights, I could make out Andalite writing. Much of it was too complicated, but I did make out two important words: Waiting and Patience. Even the Andalites had waiting rooms.

   The Andalite escort waited until we were all in, still fascinated by me, one stalk eye always connecting. ((Thank you. Taku Kelmut is to speak with _Ammarumor_ Cafciyt-Remmurt-Treksill at Earth time 9:30. With the twenty minutes remaining before that, and in the time during the meeting, please feel free to get water or other Earth refreshments. However, we request that you avoid disrupting the duties of the workforce in the main lobby. Please also refrain from taking images of the Embassy or interfering with any open computing systems. There are active countermeasure units in action that confiscate any suspicious devices that have not already been removed by external security.))

   All the while, I noticed her waving her device around again. It must have been some kind of detector. My team had been checked outside, but we were still being scrutinized thoroughly since entering. I could understand the paranoia of something concealed under an item of clothing, but she was waving it at me, too, despite me having no clothing. I _could_ have snuck something in, I suppose, but it would neither be necessary nor comfortable…

   ((If you could avoid standing on our security robot,)) She continued, ((That would be appreciated. If you have any questions, it will answer you.))

   Every one of us followed her gaze. Heads turned downwards and to the right. What we were signalled to was the white dome sat near the door, a few black markings on the front end, if indeed it _had_ one. I had originally presumed it to be some kind of doorstop. With the sliding doors they had here, though, it would be utterly useless with that function.

   We all jumped in spot when the little machine zapped into life with a beep and a forward jutter.

   The Andalite bowed again. ((We hope you enjoy your stay.))

   She left us alone with the robot, trotting out of the room with something better to do than converse with such lowly life forms. The machine was more than capable of doing that itself.

   And what charisma! It rumbled into the centre of the room, no larger than one of my (admittedly big) feet and faced us. (Alternatively, it could have turned its back on us in some act of rebellion, but it was anybody’s guess.) With its presence, nobody knew whether to indulge in each other’s company or remain absolutely still and silent.

   Clarissa was the first to move. She lifted up her handbag and pulled out a little mirror. It was time for her half-hourly check-up to make sure everything about her face was in good working order.

   ZAP! The robot swivelled rapidly, beeping to confirm its observation skills. Clarissa froze, then dropped the mirror back into her handbag without any care as to where it tumbled.

   “Can we speak?” Hernandez, one of our team, asked to another in a hushed voice.

   “I don’t know,” Was the reply. “They’re suspicious of everybody now. They’ll hear and see everything we do.”

   The robot had spun towards them as they spoke, but this time it didn’t bleep. The workings of the small piece of machinery were somewhat of a mystery.

   Hernandez perked up some courage and leaned towards the machine, and in a clear, slow voice, asked, “Are we allowed to speak to each other?”

   The robot paused. Maybe it was pulling the smarminess from his tone. It responded in a low droning tone. “Speaking is permitted. Shouting is advised against.”

   “Seems reasonable.” Somebody commented.

   We remained under the watchful eye of the robot for the remaining time. I was receiving various hints and words of encouragement throughout, but I still held onto a lot of the nerves that I had entered with. They would not be joining me with Cafciyt, even though he had insisted on having his own guards present during discussions. So long as they didn’t pressure me, it should have been fine, but having them breathing down my neck was a thought that I just couldn’t get rid of.

   “It’ll be finished before you know it,” Clarissa said as she gave me one last look-over. “There! You look ready to go! Still… ugh…”

   I noticed the confliction and the way she titled her head. “Still what?”

   “You’re chubby.”

   “This again?” I grumbled. “When we get home, I’ll go a long run.”

   “Yeah, you _did_ promise,” She tutted. “We’ll have to make sure nobody mistakes you for a parade float. They’ll, like, fill you up with air and float you around the city.”

   “You know what? That sounds preferable right now.”

   “Dear god, Taku, why are you so nervous about this?” She sighed. “It’s gonna go great!”

   I nodded. “So long as everything goes my way. That’s how I’ve planned i-”

   Something prodded against my foot, interrupting me. It was the little machine shuffling around beneath. I grunted at it and used my foot to push it away.

   “Ow!” I yelped as it zapped, sending a jolt up my right leg. It spun in place and provided three angry bleeps.

   ((Please don’t kick our equipment.))

   Stunned, I twisted my neck to spot two Andalites at the room’s entrance, glaring at me. What fantastic timing that they would see me attack their machinery.

   “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.” I stammered.

   The male rolled his main eyes. (( _Ammarumor_ Cafciyt-Remmurt-Treksill is ready for Taku Kelmut. If you could follow me, please.))

   I took a deep breath and rose to my feet, subtly cursing at the robot for making me look so petty. I received some final words of encouragement from the team, but as soon as I walked out of the door after the Andalites, I was on my own. Two more met me, making a total of four Andalites to transport me to where I needed to go. Each of them watched with stalk eyes, sizing me up, investigating every movement I made. I had an almost irresistible urge to fiddle with my tail, but felt it could have been seen as a sign of aggression. My foot was still tingling from its encounter with the robot, but that would have to wait, too.

   They took me back through the main room to an adjacent walkway. The bright lights continued to shine, but the walls were darker, almost a deep red or brown, something a little like mahogany. Dense forest scenery, it seemed. I found it much more calming, and it must have had a similar effect on them. There were openings at intervals on either side that led out to lighter rooms, much like the main entrance but smaller, like a Human office or lounge.

   The two Andalites before me stopped quite abruptly and I grimaced when I nearly walked right into the back of them. One of them turned on the spot and raised a directing hand to the opening on our left. ((The _Ammarumor_ is inside this room. We will wait out here.))

   I was very much used to doors, having spent so long with Humans. Andalites didn’t tend to rely on them quite as often. When I looked to the entrance, I did not expect to see my host staring hard at me from a distance, a gentle glisten of light bouncing from his raised tailblade. It took me totally by surprise and now I couldn’t control my tail-fiddling tendencies. They didn’t see it as a threat, thankfully.

   Cafciyt said nothing. I was expected to walk in, so I built up my courage and reminded myself internally that I had everything I needed safely stored in my memory. I knew what I needed to do, so why worry? With that, I lifted my posture to display my temporarily misplaced confidence and strolled through the door-less space.

   The rest of the room crept into view as I approached. Two of his guards were either side of the entrance, and I felt a bubble of anxiety rise from them when I came into their line of vision. I acknowledged them both, looking down as I was a clear foot taller. I hoped that wouldn’t intimidate them, but just to make sure I lowered my neck slightly and pushed on forward.

   Being Andalites, there were no chairs, and they weren’t going to make an exception for me. Instead, I had to stand awkwardly before Cafciyt who was himself standing behind a small golden podium. Behind him and off to the left was another Andalite, but he certainly didn’t look bulky enough to be security. He held a flat device in hand and started tapping fingers against its surface. He was there to take notes on proceedings. A stenographer.

   I was in position to begin. Cafciyt glared up at me with all four eyes, utterly focused. ((You must be Taku Kelmut.)) He began. I could already tell that he didn’t like me.

   “Yes,” I confirmed. “And you must be _Ammarumor_ Cafciyt-Remmurt-Treksill. It’s good to meet you.” I bowed my head forward. If I was going to get through this interview, I was going to be totally respectful, even if it was not reciprocated.

   ((Fine,)) He sneered. ((Let’s get this over with. I have some important visits and attendances today, so we won’t keep you long.)) He placed his seven-fingered right hand flat on the desk before him, and a holographic screen flashed up before him, bright blue Andalite writing becoming visible. ((You wish to discuss the relationship between our peoples.))

   “Yes. I understand that the Human-Andalite allegiance is under threat.”

   ((Under threat?)) He huffed. ((Non-existent. The Central Allied Andalite Body is certain that it will be terminated. It’s now a matter of tying up loose ends and ensuring safe passage home for all Andalite citizens.))

   “It’s a shame that it’s come to such a situation.” I said.

   He laughed. ((It is? Maybe for you and the Humans,)) His hands moved forward so that he could lean his upper body against his podium, smugness creeping over his face. ((But this was never going to last. These Humans are so primitive and so violent. How can we trust them when they can barely even trust themselves? I’m sure that even you’ve seen it.))

   Could I afford to disagree with him, even only slightly? I thought not to risk it. “I have. They killed thirteen of my people only recently.”

   ((And they killed three of ours just yesterday…)) He snorted. ((Brooklyn.))

   “I heard about it. Shameful that they would do that.”

   ((Monsters. If they do it to themselves, then they will always do it to us. Not only this, but our allegiance seems only to benefit _them_. We have gained all we can from the Humans, and now they seem determined to scrounge on our achievements, steal our technology. Tell me, Taku: Do they have the right?))

   Again, I had to play safe. Upsetting Cafciyt could ruin everything that I was going for. “Of course not. It is not their technology to have.”

   ((Hm…)) He sighed. ((Taku, I have heard of you only briefly. I haven’t had time to check over your history in-depth. I hear that you’re here in place of Toby Hamee, the one that they say saved the Hork-Bajir.))

   “Toby Hamee is not available right now,” I explained, wondering where this inquiry was heading. “She hasn’t been around for a while, so I have taken her responsibilities.”

   He stood back from the desk and clutched his hand behind his back. ((I heard that she is very disagreeable. Stubborn. But I’ve also heard that she is a great leader, maybe not quite so much as an Andalite general or prince, but worthy of your people. I was expecting her to turn up when I was told the Hork-Bajir _seer_ was to meet with me.))

   His implications were harsh and tactical. I had to stand my ground and I did just that, producing a confident smile and a raised posture. “She is indeed a great leader. She placed her trust in me when she left, and so she must judge me highly. Maybe I am no war hero, but I have my people’s best wishes at heart.”

   ((I never met Hamee, so I can’t compare you. The last Hork-Bajir I saw was stupid enough to charge me from head-on. You’re certainly cleverer than that one.))

   I clenched my teeth. “A Hork-Bajir-controller. My people are not violent.”

   Cafciyt was not impressed with my defence. He lifted a finger and pointed to a faded scar that lined his stomach. ((Yeerk or not, this scar is from a Hork-Bajir blade.))

   “My people would never intentionally hurt an Andalite, even with our mutual histories.”

   I could not tell from his face whether he believed me or not. He swished his tail freely behind him, the blade coming into full view. ((With that in mind, shall we discuss the allegiance of our peoples?))

   “Gladly.” I bowed. The stenographer standing nearby had been taking notes the whole time, but they were sporadic. Now, with the main talking points to begin, he looked poised to take down everything.

   Cafciyt raised a hand invitingly. ((What are the issues you would like to address?))

   “I simply wish to gain reassurance from the council that all current conditions in the Hork-Bajir-Andalite allegiance are maintained, barring those that require direct Human intervention. Not only that, but I want further reassurance that the failure of the Human alliance will not affect ours.”

   The stenographer was busy typing down what I had spoken. Cafciyt started to pull up some files on his holographic projection. ((I see. Is that all?))

   I was a little stunned by that. “That’s all I ask: That our current agreements remain intact, despite what is happening with the Humans.”

   ((Okay…)) He hummed, looking through the files on his projection. ((This page is giving me a brief list of what the current agreements entail. I will assume that this has to do with your home planet.))

   I nodded. “The biggest concern of my people is that the loss of the Human alliance will affect the chances of us being taken home when it is back to a satisfactory condition.”

   He took a while to gaze over the Andalite writing and take what he needed. I waited patiently, occasionally peeking over my shoulders at the security by the door. Like Cafciyt, they both had a distinct collection of scars.

   ((I’m afraid there may be an issue, Taku Kelmut,)) Cafciyt muttered without any sign of condolence. ((Much of the agreements between our peoples are tied into the Human alliance. The Andalite-Human agreement states that we will be able to transport the Hork-Bajir upon completion of the home world. With that alliance gone, the Humans may refuse. Additionally, since the Hork-Bajir are technically under Andalite custody, but are inhabiting Human territory, we are sworn to remove them as soon as possible. However, when the Human alliance ends, we will be under no obligation.))

   I felt that urge to fiddle with the tail again. “Is it not written in the Andalite-Hork-Bajir documents that they are obligated?”

   ((Only under the condition that the Human alliance remains.)) He corrected.

   That didn’t sound good. “And what are the chances that the Andalites will transport us on their own accord?”

   ((Practically zero,)) He stated coldly. ((Once we are away from Earth, we will likely have no reason to return to this part of the galaxy. The Central Allied Andalite Body is unlikely to provide funds for such an expensive transportation.))

   “So we won’t be taken back to the home planet when it’s fixed…” I summarised in return, my shoulders slumping.

   ((We will not be obligated,)) He confirmed. ((And Humans are unlikely to develop space warp capabilities for at least another three centuries. If by then they haven’t all blown each other out of existence.))

   “I understand. There are conditions in which we _will_ be transported, though. Section 5.1 from the 2002 treaty describes those circumstances.”

   He had zapped up the document in question within seconds and examined. ((Ah yes, I remember these. However, I don’t think either situation is likely. Not in the near future. The Humans won’t wipe themselves out _that_ quickly, and nor is there currently any neutral or aggressive force invading your Earth home.))

   “But in those situations, we will be moved by your transporters.”

   ((Precisely, unless by that time our allegiance goes the same way as the Humans’.))

   I cocked my head curiously. “Why would our ties end?”

   He crossed his small arms over his chest. ((If we are to separate from Earth entirely, then there is little point in continuing our connection. We can mend your planet, but somebody else will have to transport you. Our alliance is more trouble than it’s worth, for both parties involved. Who will attempt to transport the Hork-Bajir if they’re under our custody? It may be best for you – and I will leave this decision to you and your people – to consider ending the Andalite connection.))

   “We refuse.”

   He narrowed his gaze. (( _We_? I only see you…))

   “I have talked to my people. We will do whatever it takes to get home, and you’re our only way back. I refuse to end the alliance.”

   He hoisted his hands to the side like he wasn’t willing to argue. ((As you wish. I don’t see much good coming of it, though.))

   “I believe that the main reason for the treaty in the first place was to ensure a passage for us to get home. That is our goal, and the treaty gives us that chance.”

   He sighed irritably. ((Taku Kelmut, unless the Kelbrids invade Earth, there will be no reason for the council to request the transportation of the Hork-Bajir to their planet. The agreement stands in the way of other races doing the transportation themselves, so I would highly suggest considering its value! If this is about reparations for the war, we’ve already done enough to satiate your people for the wrongs of ours. We healed those on planet Earth shortly after the war ended. Those with the worst injuries. We agreed with the Humans that you would have a home here and we’ve done what we can to protect you.))

   “I am not asking for reparations,” I retorted. “I want security. Our alliance not only gives the chance of a return home, but it means that we will be protected if attacked. We cannot defend ourselves and your military is more than capable of keeping us safe.”

   He snorted derisively. ((No one will attack you. I doubt even the Kelbrids will find your race of interest.))

   “But what of the Humans?” I asked. “If your alliance disappears, what’s to stop the Humans from destroying us? We live on their planet. They could annihilate us with ease if they really wanted. You would consider them a neutral force, wouldn’t you?”

   ((Yes, we would. But it won’t happen. We’ve observed the Human-Hork-Bajir relationship and they seem very fond of your race. I’m not sure why.))

   I hid my displeasure at his attitude and moved on. “Could you tell me about the movement of Hork-Bajir from Yeerk bases? Under the rules of the last decade, Hork-Bajir rescued from rogue Yeerk bases were taken here. Will that change?”

   He rubbed his hand to his cheek, pondering as he flipped through to another file. ((The last Hork-Bajir recovery was just over an Earth year ago. The three were brought here. The number of remaining Yeerk bases is estimated to be few more than zero.))

   “But if you were to find any, where would the Hork-Bajir go?”

   ((They were always brought here. Things may change though…)) He suggested, reading deeper into the muddle of symbols suspended before him. ((Ah, here we go. _Hork-Bajir recovered from outside of known Hork-Bajir territory are to be taken to such territory, with permission of the holder of the land_. The holder would be the Humans. It would depend entirely on whether they would permit it.))

   “Well, that’s something,” I smiled. “I don’t think the Humans would block any entry. As you mention, they’re very fond.”

   He rubbed at his head. I think that if Andalites could yawn, he’d be doing just that. I appeared to be boring him. ((Is there anything else you would like to bring up about the contracts, Taku Kelmut?))

   “Of course. But before that, could I just ask when the next update will be arriving from our home world. It’s been a year since the last batch of results came through.”

   He sighed again, reluctantly bringing more up on his podium projector. ((Nothing planned.))

   “Oh, really?” I said. “It’s supposed to be every six months, isn’t it?”

   He shrugged and repeated, ((Nothing planned.))

   “If I didn’t know any better, I would come to the conclusion that this whole mess was anticipated long ago.” I accused, growing agitated with him.

   ((Think what you will,)) He huffed. ((It will make little difference.))

   “Could you at least request a report for me?”

   He was reluctant, but after an expression of utter disinterest he began to put orders to his computer. ((Maybe you _are_ as stubborn as Toby Hamee.)) He commented.

   “Maybe more so,” I grinned. “When can I expect the results to be delivered to me?”

   Cafciyt shook his head. The mutual frustration was rising. ((Must you be so impatient?!)) He blurted. ((All will get done in due time! You’re lucky that I even put up with you today.))

   I was in no mood to bicker with him. Quite clearly, his innate dislike for me wasn’t going to waver. However, in my momentary state of mind, I forgot about their alertness. I felt a tingle in my foot where the robot had zapped me earlier, so I lifted it up high in order to rub it…

   In a flash, I was pounced upon. Cafciyt swung his tail forward, pressing it up against my neck. It clanked, connected with something. Two more blades from the security aided in encircling my neck. Cafciyt’s face was panicked.

   I slowly lowered my leg, panting heavily with the onrush of adrenalin. “I… uh…”

   Then Cafciyt started to appear conflicted. ((What are you doing?))

   “My foot was itchy,” I shuddered. “I was going to rub it.”

   The three blades dropped away and I almost collapsed to the floor. The stenographer watched on, baffled, his typing momentarily halted. Then he found something to write about the situation and tapped away on the pad.

   ((Apologies.)) Cafciyt offered, backing away and continuing with his file searching.

   “Apology accepted.” I replied shakily, my tail firmly gripped in hand.


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

   Jonathan’s piece was devastatingly close. He hunched over the board with a determined glisten in his eyes not hidden by the reflection in his glasses, dice clutched firmly in hand as he begged for anything other than seven. The rest of us waited, eagerly anticipating the eruption of emotions that would occur, were the magical number to appear.

   “If it’s a seven, I’ll… I’ll…” He seethed with restrained passion.

   “Just throw the dice!” Clarissa ordered, growing frustrated with the wait.

   Under her pressure, Jonathan lifted his fist, unfurled his fingers and let the two square objects clatter onto the board. They bounced, spun and soon settled to a stop.

   A three. And a four.

   “No!” Jonathan cried. “I can’t believe it! It’s… I…! No, I just can’t…!”

   Jason sat back, gleaming with satisfaction. “Pennsylvania Avenue. That’s a lot of money you owe me.”

   Jonathan shook his head in defeat and drooped to look at his meagre collection of mortgaged properties. “Gosh darn it! I’m out…”

   “Sorry, man,” Jason shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you stay a night in Baltic Avenue.”

   That did nothing to lift Jonathan’s spirits and he reluctantly removed his piece from the Monopoly board. “I always lose…” He huffed.

   “That’s because you plan too much,” Zak replied in his smooth, deep voice. “You gotta buy everything you land on.”

   Zak was Clarissa’s boyfriend. He lived with her at her place, the same place where we were indulging in the game of Monopoly to pass the time. He was the male equivalent of Clarissa: Well-kept, tanned and slick. His perfect dark hair was gelled back, his stubble exactly the right length. He was also incredibly well-toned and certainly wasn’t afraid to show it off. He wore incredibly tight shirts. He didn’t seem at all out-of-place in Clarissa’s home, a den of fragrances and perfumes, grooming gadgets and the occasional piece of gym equipment, complete with leather furniture and modern décor.

   He didn’t like when I outperformed him in the muscle department. I would deliberately tense my muscles at convenient times just to put things in context. It was all in jest, and we got on very well.

   Clarissa, sat very close to him, was next. A devious grin shone from her as she inspected her two dark-blue properties, the most expensive on the board. “You know what? I’m going to have some hotels there. I think they’d look pretty.”

   Jonathan, as the designated banker, obliged when she handed him the right amount of fake money by handing back two red pieces of plastic that signified hotels. She placed them neatly above the properties.

   She rolled the dice, her eventual position on the board being of no importance. Next was my turn, and Zak was keen to point out what lay ahead. “Hey, Taku. You might not want a three or a five, if you know what I’m saying…” He grinned, pulling Clarissa close as they both admired the new hotels that stood proud in my path.

   I took the dice in hand. “I won’t land on them.” I said in defiance, releasing the dice to the table and watching them dance.

   Three. What rotten luck.

   My Human friends cheered in their amusement while my shoulders dropped. Clarissa, eager to receive her winnings, moved my piece forward with a mocking laugh. “Looks like you’re the first guest, Taku! Let’s see…” She picked up the property card from her organised ensemble. “Ooh, look at that!”

   She held it forward so that I could see the damage. I didn’t have enough. As I scrawled over my own pile of cards and money, I realised the extent of my issue.

   “Pay up, lizard!” Clarissa prodded.

   “That price is a little extortionate,” I complained, moving my arms away from the table. “I’d rather sleep somewhere else, if you don’t mind.”

   Clarissa raised an eyebrow, an expression of confusion. “You landed on my hotel, Taku! Give me my money!”

   “But I don’t want to stay there! I’m sure there’s a tree in the area that I could stay in.”

   “You… No, you have to pay me!”

   “You can’t force me to stay at your hotel. That’s illegal! You have to go to jail.”

   She shook her head with incredulity. “ _You’ll_ go to jail if you don’t pay for the hotel you’re staying in!”

   “You can’t charge that much money for a hotel that close to a train station!” I argued, pointing to the station in question. “I won’t get any sleep with all the noise!”

   “He’s got a point, Clarissa,” Jason added. “I don’t know why you built a luxury hotel so close to a train station.”

   “Only a fool would do that!” Jonathan concluded.

   Clarissa was speechless, even more so when I reached over and placed her piece in the jail square. “Daylight robbery.” I explained.

   Things were about to erupt into yet another board game-related argument, but the television in the corner of the lounge caught our attentions simultaneously. Though it was far on the other side of the combined living room/dining area space, it was loud enough that it could steal our concentration. A large sofa in the way, Jonathan, who had been sat at the edge of the oak dining table, had to turn around and stand to get a good view.

   The whole purpose of our gathering was not to play mindless board games, but to await a decision. Finally, FOX’s breaking news banner flashed up onto the screen and the Monopoly argument was pushed down the priority ladder.

   Video footage appeared after the banner, displaying the Andalite Ambassador speaking to reporters outside the grounds of the embassy. He looked stressed and rushed, bouncing between reporters like he just wanted to get away. The news anchor spoke over the camera footage, “Breaking news from D.C. about the Andalite alliance now. After about three hours of discussions, representatives of Humans and Andalites have concluded that the treaty of allegiance will end with immediate effect. The Andalite Ambassador has given orders to evacuate Andalites from the planet, and hopes that all citizens and officials will have left within ten days. This comes after yet another fatal attack on an Andalite veteran just two days ago in Seattle.

   A column of writing took the place of the footage. “The Ambassador has released this statement to the public, saying ‘ _It’s a shame that we come to this decision, but in light of recent events the alliance between our peoples had to be taken into consideration. After tireless debate and negotiation, the respective parties have agreed to part ways. The decision has been made with both races’ best interests as a focal point, and this is the right thing to do as we move forward. Our thanks go to the Humans who welcomed us and showed us their home with open arms, but now, we must go_.’”

   The screen cut away to video of an angry mob. They were protesters with signs and painted banners, marching down the streets of New York. There was still so much anger dedicated to the Andalites and their leaving would likely do nothing to dampen the flames.

   The Andalites would all be gone in a matter of days.

   The atmosphere around Clarissa’s dining room table had shifted for the worse. As the story on the television unfolded, looks of concern deepened. Zak, a little less connected to the situation, offered drinks. He, Jason and Jonathan opted for beer and Clarissa asked for wine.

   They saw it as a necessarily bad thing and I could understand why. Deep inside, though, I couldn’t stop smiling.

   “Are we finished with Monopoly?” Clarissa asked. We said yes and she started to pack it away.

   “So they’re going,” Zak said to us all. “I probably seem, you know, stupid, but what’s that going to do?”

   Jonathan readjusted his glasses but kept his focus on the television. “We’re never going to see their technology. Warp drives, Z-space thrusters, virtual reality helmets… They’ll take all their technology home with them.”

   “Did you think they would _ever_ give that stuff to us?” Jason asked insightfully.

   “Well, they gave us _some_ stuff!” Jonathan replied.

   “Like what?” Zak asked.

   “Like… Like those fragrance things. They’re everywhere now!”

   “Fragrance things?” Jason pondered. “You mean those air freshener things they gave us because they said that Humans smell bad?”

   “And the new safety gear they put in cars now that saves people in crashes.”

   “They only gave us that when that one Andalite died in a car crash in 2005,” Jason informed. “Let’s face it, man, they only gave us stuff if it benefitted them. They were never going to give us anything _big_.”

   Jonathan snapped his fingers. He had a better example. “The morphing power! They gave us that!”

   “I think that was part of the first treaty as reward for basically stopping the Yeerks. They gave it to some government officials for the military. Then they took it back because they thought it was getting out of hand.”

   “Oh yeah,” Jonathan sighed. “I forgot about that.”

   Clarissa sat on the edge of the sofa, which was positioned just away from the dinner table, facing the television. “Don’t, like, forget the main reason why it’s important.”

   Jason nodded in recognition. “Taku’s got to get home someday.”

   Zak took that idea in. “Damn. So only the Andalites can take the Hork-Bajir back to where they came from?”

   “Unless some other race capable of hopping galaxies comes along and picks us up.” I said.

   “Well,” Jason exclaimed, dropping both hands loudly onto the edge of the table. “This sucks.”

   Jonathan had flinched, not expecting the table slap. “It can’t be all bad. I mean, they have a home here.”

   “A borrowed home.” I corrected.

   “So what are we going to do about this?” Jason asked.

   “Hope that Yellowstone waits a few centuries to finally erupt.” I grumbled.

    “You may not be in Yellowstone by then.” Clarissa suggested.

   Jonathan had to turn sharply in his chair to look directly at me. The bright lighting above the table bounced back off of his glasses. “Oh, that reminds me. I managed to book travel to NYC on the 3rd. I forgot to mention that earlier.”

   “Some good news!” Clarissa chirped with relief. “I love going to NYC.”

   Zak grinned and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Maybe this time you’ll take me with you.”

   “Maybe. I guess I do need someone to carry my shoes.”

   “You normally have at least three people for that,” I joked. “One more can’t hurt.”

   Jason took a sip from his beer. “How many interviews on this trip?”

   “Five,” I answered. “Spaced out over eight days. We need to make another effort to sway public opinion, especially with the Andalites leaving.”

   Jonathan hummed pessimistically. “The Andalites may have made things a lot harder for us. If the Hork-Bajir are staying permanently, people might not want to give you Yellowstone forever.”

   “Exactly,” I replied. “So I’m going to do more public speaking. We need to get more people on our side, and we need them to speak up.”

   Clarissa asked, “Why don’t we ask _CrescentCreations_ to go back to that part of the park that would be removed?”

   Jason sat up, puzzled. “Yeah. Why did you want them moved, anyway?”

   I had not yet explained my reasoning to Jason, and frankly, I thought he would never be too bothered by it. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”

   “Why don’t we invite more shows to come in?”

   “I don’t think it would make much difference.”

   Now Jonathan looked puzzled as he gazed up at me wincing in the light. “But Taku, it’s an established fact that more publicity will get more attention from people. Maybe it’s a good idea.”

   “That may be so, but I don’t want my people constantly harassed by film crews.”

   Thankfully, they accepted that response. The conversations settled to a more informal tone from then on, and when football began on the television, the male Humans retired to the sofa to shout obscenities and drink far more alcohol than would ever be prescribed. Clarissa flitted in and out of the action, mostly to moan about how much she hated watching football. She would sit with Zak more often than not, but other times she would indulge in small talk with me.

   I was sat at the dinner table still, going through some papers. The guys admonished me for being boring, but football and beer really wasn’t my “thing”, either. I was just getting through some forms when Clarissa came back over to check on me.

   She looked over my shoulder as I scribbled a final signature down. “Finished yet?”

   “Not quite. Always so much of this to do. How do you Humans not go insane?”

   “I avoid paperwork. And, unlike you, I don’t read every last bit of all the contracts and agreements bits, you know.” Seeing a conversation unfold, she pulled out the seat beside me and sat down, placing a half-empty wine glass down before her.

   “I like to be certain about everything,” I chuckled. “Maybe that’s a strength. Maybe that’s a weakness.”

   “You’re doing okay so far. You know, when I first saw you going out into the public and doing, like, interviews and all that stuff, I really thought you’d struggle.”

   “I _am_ struggling…”

   “Not as much as I thought you would,” She clarified. “You’re doing okay. Better than okay.”

   I was flattered. “Thank you. I have a great team with me.”

   She smiled warmly, and as I flicked through to my next page, she fingered through the other bits of paperwork. “So what is this? These for the interviews?”

   “Yes,” I said, finding another signature line to christen. “All the usual forms to fill. Security stuff, too.”

   She found something that she must have thought out of place and she removed it. “Don’t think you’ll need this anymore. Want me to get rid of it?”

   She turned the paper so that I could witness the content. Symbols belonging to the Andalite language were printed on it. “Ah. No, I’ll keep that, thank you.”

   Clarissa was perplexed. “Why? If they’re not going to be around, why do you want to learn the language?”

   “I like to know things.”

   She narrowed her eyes, trying desperately to figure me out. “You like to know things, huh.”

   I nodded. “Yes. You liked those pink high heels that you bought last year, but you’ve never worn them. Maybe I’ll never need the Andalite language, but I would like to have it.”

   “Okay, okay,” She laughed, holding her hands up defensively. “And I _did_ wear those high heels. You just weren’t there to see it.”

   “I believe you.”

   “Good. I believe you, too.”

   Neither assurance of belief was compelling.

   “Is Zak coming to New York?” I asked.

   “If there’s enough room on the plane for both of you.”

   I laughed and put down my pen for the moment. “Maybe we need to upgrade. We’ll need a hotel near to a gym, too.”

   “Way ahead of you, Kelmut,” She giggled. “I’ve made sure we’ll get a good one.”

   “Does Jonathan know? He’s booking.”

   “Yeah, I told him.”

   “Ah, that reminds me,” I said. I looked past her to the sofas. “Jon!”

   His head popped up over the leather upholstery. “Yes?”

   “Could you come over here for a second, please?”

   In his usual misplaced haste, he sped on over, standing at the end of the table beside Clarissa, blocking my view of the television.

   “Have you booked the hotel in New York?” I asked of him.

   He shook his head and readjusted his glasses with his index finger. “Not yet, Taku. Why?”

   “Good. We need to cater for another Hork-Bajir. My brother is coming.”

   Clarissa’s head spun towards me. Jonathan scrunched his nose in mystification.

   “You have a brother?!” He squawked.

   That got the attention of Zak and Jason, their appeal to football temporarily put aside. “What about his brother?” Jason asked from his seated position beside the blind-covered windows.

   Jonathan, still reeling, replied, “He says he has a brother.”

   “You didn’t know?”

   “Uh… I… no!”

   Jason moved past that particular line of inquiry and got straight to the point. “What’s happening with Taku’s brother?” He asked Jonathan, taking another swig of his drink.

   “H-he’s coming to New York.” Jonathan said, still not overly sure that he was correct.

   “He’s coming to New York?!”

   “Why is he coming to New York?” Clarissa demanded.

   “Is there a problem?” I retorted.

   Jason repeated the question. “Why is your brother coming to New York?”

   Clarissa thought to add, “You remember what happened the last time you took you took someone you knew along for a ride?”

   “Yes, of course I do. I won’t be so careless on this occasion.”

   “So… why are you bringing your brother?” asked Jonathan, pressing for the answer.

   “I need one of my people to help,” I explained calmly. “One who isn’t a _seer_ , who better represents Hork-Bajir.”

   “You’re serious?” Clarissa blurted.

   “Yes. I’m serious. Can you arrange that, Jonathan?”

   He blinked at me, fiddling with the top button on his white shirt. “I… I guess I can, Taku. Yeah, I can do that.”

   “Thank you. I’ll introduce you to him before we leave, assuming that he would like to join us. I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”

   “Okay…” Clarissa mumbled. “I hope you’re, like, sure about this.”

   “I’m absolutely certain,” I grinned. “My brother is exactly the person that I need.”

   Zak, so far left behind by the conversation, leant forward into my line of vision, beer in hand. “Taku has a brother?”


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

   Home was feeling ever more foreign as the weeks passed. Since the release of the _Horvallack_ document, journeys back to my own tree were getting more infrequent. My storage hut was falling into disrepair, and many of the books lining the shelves were beyond salvaging. With sadness, I had to get rid of some of my favourites. They could be used for the campfire that I planned to stick around for.

   Maybe soon I could have some more time aside to keep the ragged old thing from crumbling away. Its sorry state was not enough to dampen the warmth that it gave me. A peaceful, secluded zone where I could read up on some important information or get lost in a good piece of fiction.

   I pressed a foot to the centre of the floor and it bent downwards. It wouldn’t hold my weight much longer. I could ask Father to maintain it while I was in New York. He would always oblige.

   I slithered back to the home tree through the myriad of branches just as my parents were sitting down to embrace the warming weather. As the summer months began to approach, the old blankets started to disappear and my people grew more active, more inclined to play games in the trees than collect excessive levels of bark to keep them warm through the bitter winter nights.

   In fact, Mother and Father had organised something akin to a picnic on the home tree. One of them must have deliberately taken a bark selection from every species of tree in the area. I wondered just who they were trying to impress…

   “Taku is here!” Mother announced when I pulled myself onto the platform.

   “Taku is here.” Father parroted. He was tending to a second tier platform from beneath, strengthening the foundations.

   “Hello,” I uttered in return, inspecting the collection of barks and giving Mother a kiss when she pulled herself to her feet. “I see you have some food ready. It looks delicious.”

   That pleased Mother very much, and she delighted in offering me some of her favourites, which I gladly accepted. I let her fuss over me for a while, and then built up the curiosity to see what Father was up to. Standing beside him, I watched as he threaded fibrous plant material through the gaps in the supporting beams. Coming to the realisation that I had no idea why, I became very self-conscious.

   “Taku want to help?” Father offered cheerfully, handing me a strand of material.

   “Um… I wouldn’t know where to begin.” I admitted.

   Father chuckled and pointed to the item sat in my hand. “This,” Then he moved his pointing finger to the supporting beam closest to the tree trunk. “Go there.”

   “Seems pretty easy.” I said, taking the end of the strand in my fingers and bringing it over to the beam.

   Father, meanwhile, walked outwards from the trunk to the end of the platform. He pointed again, this time to the outermost supporting beam of the upper tier. “Then through there.”

   Complacency was perhaps my biggest flaw. I tried threading the needle through the first support beam gap. I almost turned away when it fell right down to the ground. Father watched on expectantly as I feebly attempted to successfully complete that simple task.

   “I’ll get it eventually,” I commented, still struggling. “It’s not something I’ve really done before.”

   Father slumped. It told me that he felt responsible for my deficiency in house maintenance. With that in mind, I doubled my efforts and finally managed to thread the first gap and secure it with a tight knot. “There! That’s that one done.”

   “Mago show Taku more,” Father suggested. “Taku is slow. Mago will help to make faster!”

   I moved onto the next beam and began to fiddle with the loose end of the strand to prepare it. “I would like that. I think I’ll have more time to do that soon.”

   A whack on the platform on the opposite side of the tree announced the arrival of Lenk. Father didn’t take any notice, but I had been waiting for him and I was no longer so determined to do the threading. Lenk, who had his own home tree about thirty yards away nowadays, shuffled to Mother’s bark collection. She gave him a kiss and offered his favourite bark, which he accepted.

   He noticed me. It had been a while since I last saw him, and those occasions had become more and more infrequent. He seemed almost baffled to see me home.

   He walked over, his bark sticking out the side of his mouth. We connected headblades, and then he did the same with Father. “Hello, Taku. Hello, father.”

   “How are you, Lenk?” I asked, making sure that he didn’t escape back to Mother’s picnic.

   He seemed surprised again that I would engage him. It was sad, really, how distant we had always been. He looked so much like me. Same eyes, same shape to the blades on our arms and legs. He even shared my toes. He was, of course, a little fitter than I was, but then he didn’t spend most of his time sat behind a desk.

   “Lenk find new trees,” He reported with little enthusiasm. He pointed northwards, saying “That way.”

   “That’s good,” I muttered politely. I wished to speak to him privately, so I had to separate us from Father. “Could you follow me, please, Lenk?”

   He was curious but obedient. Once I had his agreement, I asked for Father’s permission to leave for a moment and led Lenk a few trees away to where we could talk uninterrupted. We came to rest on two diverging sections of a tree trunk beside an impassable wall of pine needles. Lenk stood uncomfortably on his branch, hand clutching tight to the limb so that his body swayed lightly forward and back. I assumed a sitting position, displaying intent for an in-depth conversation.

   “What is here?” Lenk asked. He gazed around awkwardly, eager to get on with his lunch.

   “You and I,” I replied with a smile. “And the trees. And the leaves.”

   He didn’t understand and he craned his neck to the side impatiently. “Why did Taku bring Lenk?”

   “Lenk. Brother, we’ve always been so distant. We’ve hardly grown up together and I get the most horrible feeling that you don’t like being around me”

   Put on the spot, his eyes turned away and he pulled himself closer to the trunk of the tree. “No.” was his only reply.

   “It’s pretty obvious to me,” I stated. “And I don’t want it to be that way. You are my brother, Lenk. We have our differences, but we have so much more in common.”

   He placed a hand to the side of his head and groaned. “Taku always so many words!”

   “Sorry,” I replied whilst inwardly chastising myself. “We are nearly the same, Lenk.”

   “Taku is _different_ ,” He said defiantly. “Know better than Lenk.”

   He began to shuffle away, clambering over to the next branch with heaviness on his shoulders. He hated the situation as much as I did. However, I couldn’t let him get away without doing what I had intended to do. I barked to him and it was enough to make him slow down.

   “Lenk,” I called. “I am going to New York soon.”

   He turned away again with haste. “Taku have fun.”

   “I want you to come!”

   That was more successful. He stopped his descent from our high elevation and stared back towards me with bemusement. He swung sideways to latch himself between two thick branches, tail dropping lazily beneath. “What Taku say?”

   A self-satisfied chuckle left my snout. “I want you to come to New York with me!”

   His head was cocked to one side, mouth left slightly ajar as his mind laboured to calculate. The solution to his problem wouldn’t come easily.

   “Come up here, brother, and I’ll explain.”

   Lenk steadily pulled his way back up, eyes firmly fixated on mine during. When he had returned to his original position, attached to the branch adjacent to mine, I began to deliver my proposal.

   “Soon, I will be going to New York, a big Human city,” I told. “It’s an important visit.”

   “City…” He hummed. I could already see a smile just itching to plague him. “City is like a big tree?”

   “Like _lots_ of big trees.” I corrected.

   I let him envisage that, studying his facial expressions. He had never seen a big city before, though perhaps he would have been shown pictures by the Human teachers who occasionally ventured into the park. Most likely, he would take my analogy literally, and not introduce great metal cuboids into the imagery.

   “City.” He repeated to himself.

   “There are lots of Humans living in New York. It’s amazing. Something so different to Yellowstone. It can be scary, too.”

   “Not for Lenk,” He replied with a proud lift of his neck. “Lenk has seen lots of Humans. Humans not scary.”

   “Seeing four Humans in a Yellowstone Ranger isn’t quite the same.”

   “Lenk saw five!” He argued, using his fingers to make sure that his number was correct.

   “More than five. It will be a lot to take in, which is why I need to make sure that you’re willing to come with us.”

   He stared long and hard, and then moved himself closer to the branch and into a seating position, rather than standing as if ready to bounce into the next tree over. “Taku wants Lenk to come to Human tree?”

   Feeling no need to correct him, I replied, “Yes. I want you to talk to the Humans, in my place. I want you to tell them how you feel about the park.”

   He nodded enthusiastically. “Talking is easy!”

   “Good,” I grinned. “But, Lenk, if you ever change your mind, you must tell me straight away. Do you promise?”

   “Lenk promise!” He exclaimed.

   “And you’re sure that you want to come?”

   “Lenk sure!”

   He was beginning to bounce up and down on the branch, causing the leaves to rustle around him. I worried that he had no idea what he was in for and that he’d be in for quite a shock. Toby must have looked at me the exact same way that I was looking at my brother at that moment, back in the days when I would be equally ecstatic to explore a new world.

   “Okay, brother. We will leave here after seven moons have passed. We will meet with my Human friends, and they will try to prepare you for what’s to come. I think you’ll like them.”

   “Taku has Human friends,” He mused. “What are Human friends like, brother Taku?”

   “They are nice!” I stated. “They can be a little… oh, how can I say it…? Eccentric. Not like Hork-Bajir.”

   He didn’t know what to think of that.

   “You’ll find out when you meet them,” I said to appease him. “Then, when you’ve gotten used to them, we’ll travel to New York. You’ll have to ride on an airplane.”

   He smiled. “Lenk knows that word!”

   “Do you know what it is?”

   “No.”

   I pointed directly upwards at a gap in the canopy. Deep blue sky was visible above us. “The metal birds. Birds that don’t flap their wings.”

   “Airplane? Humans sit on airplane?”

   “Yes. That’s how they get to places that are far away very fast.”

   He looked truly concerned, placing a hand beneath his jaw. “Humans will fall off.”

   “No, they don’t sit _on_ the airplane. They go inside of it. It’s perfectly safe. Besides, we’ll have our own plane. You’ll have somewhere to sleep, something to eat. You’ll love it!”

   I was kidding myself. He was more likely to get motion sickness, but I wasn’t going to put him off the idea so early on.

   “Lenk would like to go now!” He yipped, cheerfully standing up tall on the most horizontal section of his branch.

   “We can’t go yet,” I replied, trying to cool his enthusiasm. “Tomorrow, you’re very welcome to follow me to me office. You can meet Clarissa first.”

   “Clah-rih-sa.” He pronounced with an excruciating drone.

   It was a side to my brother that I had rarely seen before, and finally it signalled something between us more than obligatory politeness. I knew his issues. He was the _normal_ brother, whereas I was the _seer_. His pain was in the understanding that I would be the focus, the one that Mother and Father pined for in the night while I took regular trips into a fascinating foreign world, while he would sit, restricted, in a tree that sang little different to any other. He was not necessary to my plan, but in bringing him, I was giving him that opportunity to also be something different, something out of the ordinary.

   He probably knew it. My people had more insight than I ever thought possible when comparing them with the Humans. He knew that he was not the essential piece that nobody else could be. That wasn’t what mattered though. The fact that I chose him was everything in the context of our strained relationship.

   “Shall we go back to tell Mother and Father?” I suggested, rising to my feet, balancing myself with my tail clung around my standing branch.

   He was more than willing. Impatient, even. But before we swung our way back down through the maze of wood, he hesitated. With a genuine look of appreciation, he turned back to me. We both dropped our heads forward to connect head blades.

   “Lenk is very sorry,” He said as we disengaged. “Lenk is always such bad brother for Taku.”

   “I take just as much blame, so I’m sorry, too.” I admitted.

   “ _Fallana_ , brother Taku.”


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

We were in the hotel lounge. A warm, cosy room, deep in the heart of the extensive building situated in the maze of New York City. Late at night, there wasn’t too much activity, and that was why we felt confident enough to spend the remaining hours relaxing within its golden-lit walls and mahogany brown leather sofas, winding the time with meaningless chatter and the occasional drink.

   That was the Humans. I, on the other hand, was trying to be somewhat productive in my continuing efforts to integrate Lenk into the new way of life. He whimpered again, pining over his dull blades, constantly reminding me that it was not something that he had ever agreed to. Either he had short memory, or selective.

   “Please stop sulking, Lenk,” I huffed as I pulled his hand down again to prioritise his attention. “Do you see me complaining about it? It’s for the best, especially in nice places like this where they don’t like us scratching up their furniture.”

   “Taku so much speak.” He distastefully replied.

   He was sat on the leather sofa at the southern side of the lounging area, legs threatening to turn over a glass-top coffee table as he constantly fidgeted in his feeble attempts to push me away. I approached him from the side to avoid knocking anything over. I was due to speak in a Skype-based podcast soon, but I had other ideas.

   “I need to speak with you. I don’t know why you’re making it so difficult.”

   He submitted then, but maintained his reluctance in his facial expression. “Lenk is tired. So many Humans. All talk at Lenk!  Lenk just want to sit and go to sleep.”

   “You have to get used to it,” I said as I sat beside him, shuffling the coffee table away as a precaution. “Besides, you seemed to enjoy it.”

   “Yes. Humans are strange. Make Lenk laugh, but also make Lenk confuse.”

   “You’ll have to get used to that, too. They are interesting, to put it mildly.”

   I pulled up my laptop that I had temporarily placed beside the sofa and started it up while continuing the conversation. Lenk, still so recent to such technology, instantly became very interested, and he leaned forward in anticipation of what the screen would show this time.

   “If you’re going to do what I do,” I spoke. “Then you have to be tired and sleepy sometimes and continue working. It’s hard, but it’s very rewarding.”

   “Lenk have no rewards yet.” He grumbled. All day, he had been picking holes in my statements. I had come to realise over the last week how stubborn my brother could truly be.

   “No rewards?!” I gasped. “We have brought you here to the Human world and treated you to the juiciest barks! You even met David Schwimmer!”

   Lenk blinked.

   “The Human with the dark hair. I told you that he was an actor.”

   “And he turned into a giraffe!” Lenk chirped, finally pulling the memory from the sedimentary rocks.

   “Yes. That’s the one. Isn’t that reward enough?”

   He snorted. A definite no.

   “Well then, I will never know how to please you.”

   “Kee-RAW!” He laughed, taking pleasure in irritating me. The sound drew the attention of a group of Humans on the other side of the room, among them Clarissa.

   “Remember, Lenk,” I said with lowered tone. “Try to keep the noise down. They don’t like you being loud.”

   He looked annoyed and fell back into the sofa, pouting childishly. “Human tree has so many rules. _Lenk not do this. Lenk not do that_.”

   “And you should respect those rules. Now stop being so stubborn and listen. I am supposed to be speaking to some Humans online today. Do you remember earlier, when Clarissa was speaking to people on her computer?”

   “Yes,” He recalled. “Clarissa told Lenk that Humans not actually inside computer. Humans are somewhere else.”

   “It’s your turn now,” I grinned. “It’s good practice for when you do it in front of real people.”

   Lenk was nervous, but those nerves were yet to manifest themselves into something unmanageable. In fact, he took it in his embrace and strived to overcome it each time. Just a few hours before, he found himself, alongside me, in a room with over twenty Human strangers. He coped phenomenally, reminding me of how well Pluk had immersed in it before his accident. There were clear differences between the two of us that were becoming ever more apparent.

   “So what does Lenk do?” He asked, keeping a watchful eye over my computer activities.

   “I have told the podcasters that I will be giving you my duties, and they are more than happy to speak with you. All you have to do is talk.”

   “Lenk just talk? What should Lenk talk _about_?”

   “Whatever you want. Or whatever they want. It depends on the conservation at the time.” I replied.

   It seemed to calm whatever nerves he had, and he sat up straight in his seat, impatiently motioning towards the computer like he wanted to get started. “Humans talk about strange things.” He thought to add.

   “Especially these ones,” I mentioned. “Just be yourself, have some fun and make friends. That’s all you need to do.”

   He smiled. “All Lenk need to do!”

   I had brought Skype up, and right on cue, one of the podcast hosts attempted to call. I popped the laptop onto Lenk and clicked to accept the call. I also handed him some headphones and made sure the webcam was operational. Suddenly, he was most intrigued in that device and proceeded to check his own facial features with utter amazement. “There you go!” I said.

   With him happy enough on his own, I was free to wallow amongst the other beings in the room. Clarissa and Zak were in the midst of a conversation with some of who I presumed to be other hotel guests, so when I came close to them, I thought I’d be better not interrupt. However, with them still in the corner of my eye, I saw Clarissa turn to me and call me with a finger.

   “Hey, Taku, come over here!”

   Eager to join in, I followed her request and moved into their compact circle. There were two strangers: A bald male Human who looked to be in his late 40’s, and a blonde-haired female, said hair bunched up smartly at the back with some remaining to sweep forward in a neat fringe. I assumed them to be partners. They had been getting along well with my friends.

   “Hey, Taku,” Clarissa greeted. “I thought you’d never join us!”

   She was as groomed as usual, on this particular night wearing a sparkly purple dress. This was no ordinary hotel, and so she had to look the part. One would think she was trying to out-do this new female, who stood proud in a similar black dress. Zak and the bald man were in suits, though Zak’s hair had clearly been fussed over for some time, something that the other male was incapable of.

   “I’ve been sorting Lenk out,” I explained, passing a welcoming smile to the two strangers. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

   Clarissa was ready to do the honours. “Taku, this is Donny Miller.” She said, indicating the bald man.

   “Wonderful to meet you.” I reached forward to shake his hand.

   He studied the situation, and accordingly shook two of the fingers. “And you, Taku Kelmut.”

   Clarissa continued, “And Debra Miller, his wife.”

   “We’ve heard so much about you,” Debra said, also shaking two of my fingers with a massive grin. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the new _seer_.”

   “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” I politely replied. “And you must be-”

   “The owners of the hotel.” Clarissa butted in helpfully, knowing in advance that I held no such knowledge.

   “Yes, of course!” I chuckled. “It’s more than I could have hoped for, and it’s very kind of you to allow my brother to stay. I suspect that you weren’t expecting two Hork-Bajir until only recently.”

   “We’re happy to accommodate both of you,” Donny responded cheerfully. “I mean, what’s so different about our people? We already had a vegetarian menu, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the only difference.”

   “And we reduce the laundry bill.” Debra added with a conclusive squawk of laughter. I imagined that it was a joke.

   “Ha-ha! That too,” Donny joined. “Are you busy tomorrow evening, Taku?”

   “No. Not unless my brother _makes_ me busy.”

   He nodded. “Well, if you’re not, we’d like to invite you to dinner. On us. I suppose these two can tag along as well, if they wish.” He snorted jovially, wagging a finger at Clarissa and Zak.

   “Oh please,” Zak replied. “Taku is the ultimate tag-along.”

   I could have begun a friendly back-and-forth with him, but I didn’t want to douse the Miller’s with in-jokes that they could take the wrong way, so I moved on. “I would love to. Thanks very much for the offer.”

   “Your…” Donny started, then tilting sideways to look past me and at Lenk. “Your brother… I haven’t heard much of him.”

   I could sense his concerns. Following his stare, I watched Lenk as he lifted the laptop in the air at full stretch, shifting his form with precision. “That’s understandable,” I muttered. “This is his first time out of the park. He’s currently involved in an internet show. I think he’s taken a particular interest in his own webcam.”

   “May I ask, Taku,” Donny said, clearing his throat loudly. “What the reason is for bringing him here to New York?”

   “I will be very busy on this trip, so my brother is here to do some engagements in my place as a representative of my people.”

   He nodded, but I could tell that he was not altogether convinced by the idea. “I look forward to seeing him in action.”

   “I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised at what happens.” I grinned.

   Unbeknownst to the Miller’s, I saw Clarissa jab an elbow into Zak’s side. He frowned, but then came to a quick conclusion and sprang into action.

   “Hey, you know what? I think we should celebrate with something to drink,” He suggested. “I have this stuff that you’ve just _got_ to try.”

   When he put his hand on Mr Miller’s shoulder and turned to move, it effectively forced the couple to join. Clarissa stayed put and made sure that I went nowhere as the other three disappeared to the hotel bar.

   Once they were out of range, she began. “Um, what’s he doing?”

   “Lenk has taken my place in the podcast tonight. Is there something wrong with that?”

   She grumbled and then pulled my arm, swivelling me in place. Lenk, as we both witnessed was checking his own teeth in the webcam.

   “ _Really_?!” Clarissa squeaked.

   “It will take him some time to get used to it all,” I opined. “At least he’s still wearing the headphones. I believe he’s still in the call.”

   “Who else is in the call, Taku?” Clarissa demanded, placing her hands firmly to her waist.

   “Oh, don’t worry. It’s nobody terribly influential. It’s just an amateur news broadcast, really. I explained to them beforehand that my brother would be taking my place.”

   “And how did they take that news?”

   “They took it well!” I explained. “And they know that my brother won’t yet have obtained proper discussion etiquette.”

   Now, she folded her arms, the next evolutionary phase of Angry Clarissa. “You need to tell me what’s going on, Taku. I know your schedule, and you’re not busy. Why is your brother doing this?”

   I sighed, “I have told you many times. Why do I have to keep repeating myself? He is here as a representative of normal, everyday Hork-Bajir.”

   “Yeah, yeah, I get that,” She grumbled. “But how is it going to make things easier? Like, no offence, but he speaks like a four-year-old. They’re going to decide soon whether they’re going to change Yellowstone. This is when we should be doing whatever we can to stop that!”

   “Representing my people better is something we can do. Sure, he’s not going to articulate a Shakespearean monologue that changes the mind of every American, but, in just being himself, he might make some difference. I’ve already damaged my reputation enough that I will never change the minds of many. Nobody has a grudge with my brother.”

   “Okay, Taku,” She rubbed at her brow and took a cautionary glance around to make sure we were still talking in private. “You know that we’re, like, friends, and that friends should always back each other, right? Well, sometimes we have to be honest, you know.”

   I pouted and braced for her opinion. “Go ahead.”

   “This is a stupid idea. I know you’re trying to do something good, and I think that’s great, but can’t you see that this won’t work? Your brother will stand in front of a camera and either freeze up like you did, or he’ll say nothing good and ruin our chances of stopping this decision.”

   I took that in, nodding gently. “It could happen like that, I know. But we need to look at the situation and know that we’ve tried so many things and nothing so far has worked. The decision to take away Yellowstone’s status is not done by referendum. It is not achieved by cold numbers and facts. What we need to do is create such opposition that the officials will fear for their jobs. They run on popularity, and that’s what we need to steal. To do that, we must unite the people, but I am a divisive figure. Facts are divisive figures. The honest opinions of a Hork-Bajir whose friends may lose their homes are much less so. We’ve tried facts and we’ve tried reasoning and all it’s done is bounce back at us. It’s time to try something new.”

   “I think this something new is a bit _too_ new.” She commented, but she let it hang when one of the hotel staff came to stand beside us, a platter in hand with several whiskey glasses decorating its shiny surface.

   “Glenfiddich?” He offered with a slight bow. “Private vintage.”

   Clarissa hummed her approval and took a glass with delicate Human fingers. “Mr Miller is very generous! Thank you.”

   “It would be rude to refuse. Thank you.” I added with what was probably a distinctively awkward tone. I took a glass and waited for the Human to leave before I sniffed the liquid and immediately, violently recoiled.

   Clarissa took no notice. “I guess I can’t stop you. I don’t think it will work though. You’d have a better chance of Donald Trump being the next president.”

   “The odds were always stacked against us,” I replied. “But we’ll keep trying. Have you both gotten along so far?”

   “He can be a bit difficult. God, it was hell trying to do his blades. I’ve never seen a Hork-Bajir moan so much.”

   I chuckled and watched him from a distance as he blathered into the speaker on his laptop. “Sounds like him. He likes to be disagreeable.”

   “And you think he’ll even attempt an interview when you force him in front of a camera?”

   I smiled to Clarissa to convey my certainty. “Why do you think that he eventually allowed you to file his blades, to strip him of his finest features?”

   She shrugged. “Because I told him?”

   “No,” I said. “At least not wholly. It’s because _I_ did it. My brother will not admit it, but he has been envious of me ever since Toby Hamee set foot onto our tree. I am the _seer_ , and he is just another normal Hork-Bajir. He would do anything to be like me, because he thinks that Mother and Father care more for me. I tell him that it’s not true, but he has convinced himself beyond my reasoning.”

   “So he’ll just do whatever you do?” She asked.

   “I’ve already shown him my last interview. I told him what I did, why I did it. He told me that he wanted to do it, too. Believe me, no matter how nervous he may become or how scared, he will power through it, just so that he can feel like he’s achieved as much as I have.”

   “You’re not just using him, are you?”

   “I offered this to him and warned him of what it meant. He accepted. Besides, how many Hork-Bajir get to sample New York, and…” I lifted my whiskey glass into view. “Whiskey… Where did the guy with the whiskey go? Maybe we should tell him not to give Lenk any.”

   Clarissa caught on quickly. “I think he went over that way. I’ll go tell him.”

   She wandered off with the clicking of high heels, leaving me briefly alone. I wondered how Lenk was coping with his informal conversation and looked to the sofa again. There he was, chatting away, headphones still slumped over his head so that I knew he wasn’t simply talking to himself like he had started to do on the plane flight over. Then, he opened up his mouth wide, leaned forward and appeared to lick the laptop screen. I don’t know whether it was some display to the ten-or-so-thousand people watching, or if it was a bet. Maybe it was a new trend that he was quickly getting caught up in.

   I lifted my glass and downed what little fluid had been provided to me.


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

Clarissa had a hand over her mouth, a position it had sustained for about ten minutes. She’d always had her doubts about my plan and had not let go of them throughout Lenk’s “tour” of New York. Occasionally she would shake her head. Whenever he said something either completely irrelevant or inane, she would turn away, almost embarrassed that she was associated with him.

   Meanwhile, I smiled with smug satisfaction. That only seemed to infuriate her more. Even more so than the coldness of the dark gym hall we were contained in.

   Lenk was well into his last interview of the week. It was a FOX News segment, and thankfully they were going easy on him. To be perfectly honest, every interview was peppered with softballs and throwaway questions. Nobody seemed to want to berate a _normal_ Hork-Bajir, even if his opinions did fall firmly to one side of the debate line. They were just amused to see a _non-seer_ stuttering out an honest opinion and were more than happy to play along.

   It did, however, cause backlash against me. They never brought it up to Lenk in his interviews, but public favour of me was dwindling. The decision to put Lenk in my place was met with total negativity. I was called lazy, counter-productive and stupid. Everything that the Great Toby Hamee wasn’t. They wanted to talk to me, to get an opinion, but I would either refuse them or, if cornered, explain that I was simply busy. It only heightened the anger of the public.

   All along, my team had stood by my side and trusted my plans. Though they disagreed fervently and thought it the doom of our goals, they decided that I was the one to make the calls. Clarissa would whine at me, try her best to convince me otherwise, but I wasn’t going to budge.

   Clarissa had had enough of watching Lenk as he sat awkwardly on his stool behind the camera. His latest answer to yet another softball question was just too much to take, and she shook her head at me, finally bringing her hand away from her mouth. “I don’t want to watch this anymore. This is a disaster!”

   “He’s doing fine,” I disagreed. “He’s here to get his message across, and he’s doing just that.”

   “Would you please stop smiling?!” She growled. “I’m starting to think that you’ve lost your mind.”

   “Maybe I have.” I replied quietly.

   “Ugh!” She protested, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Kelmut, but you, like, _really_ need to tell me what’s going on!”

   “I’m doing what is best for my people.” I said, keeping my voice soothingly low to stop the conversation from bouncing into an argument.

   “You can’t be serious,” She sighed. “This isn’t helping, Taku. You made your point with Lenk in the first interview. Why is he still doing this?! We probably have three days before the Yellowstone plans are approved, and we have no chance of stopping it! Not only that, but everybody – and I mean _everybody_ – thinks you’re avoiding the whole thing. They think you’re scared.”

   “A failure.” I added.

   Clarissa’s eyes darted to the side. “Uh, no… Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

   “They can think what they want,” I said. “But this isn’t over. I’m not running scared. I could be a failure, and when that is proven true, I will admit it. For now, I am happy with how everything is going.”

   Clarissa wasn’t grasping and she held a hand to her forehead as if nursing a painful headache. “I don’t get it, Taku. What about this makes you happy?”

   I smiled again, this time as a friendly reassurance as I reached forward with a hand considerably larger than hers. I took it and forced her to look me in the eyes. “My people will have their home. I am certain.”

   She tried to figure me out, to stare deep into my eyes to pull from them a clue as to the game I was playing. When I let go of her hand, she still couldn’t see, but she knew that I was truly certain.

   “My friend Jim will be joining us for dinner tonight,” I chirped. “We will be at the Gramercy Tavern at 8, celebrating Lenk’s final interview of the week.”

   It wonderfully pulled on her attention. “Oh, I love that place!” She exclaimed. “Why didn’t I hear abo-”

   She hesitated in mid-sentence and raised an eyebrow. I could not hold back a grin.

   “Taku, I’m, like, your supervisor. _And_ I have better taste than you. I should be booking restaurants! How did you do it?”

   “You think I couldn’t book a restaurant?” I scoffed. “You think so little of me, Clarissa.”

   “Did you get Jason to help you?”

   I rocked my head from side to side with internal conflict, but the truth won over. “Yes.”

   She shone a grin. “I know you so well.”

   A call came from near the sole camera where Lenk was being filmed. The segment had finished. He looked around like he’d done this sort of thing a million times, waiting for staff to arrive and remove his headphone and speaker. He showed little emotion. No excitement, no fear. It was little more than a chore for him, a favour he could do for his little brother. He certainly didn’t go through the same emotional journeys that I always did after interviews.

   Once relieved of his equipment, he rose from his stool and made his way for us. Clarissa, not willing to show him the same distress she showed to me, was the first to congratulate him.

   “Lenk!” She squeaked in the high-pitched manner that female Humans use when expressing excitement. “That was so good! You did great!”

   He shone proudly and raised his arms to allow her to embrace him as congratulations. He laughed to me, content but equally exhausted. “Lenk finish interview!”

   “You did!” I agreed, connecting our head blades once Clarissa had safely disengaged. “And you did very well, as Clarissa said.”

   “Home is save now?” He questioned hopefully.

   I hesitated to answer, glancing to look at Clarissa, who was equally unsure.

   I answered with a smile that I knew was just barely convincing enough for the average Hork-Bajir, “We’ll find out very soon, brother. Let’s hope that it’s good news!”

   Satiated, he laughed again, but slumped in place. After such a long week, with everything so new to him, he was close to collapsing and sleeping for a fortnight. His weary eyes twitched and his tail drooped loosely onto the ground.

   “You’re tired. I think you need to go take a rest.”

   “Yes. Lenk is tired.” He accepted.

   I pointed behind us, where Jonathan had been observing the interview. “I’m sure Jonathan will take you somewhere you can sleep. I’m just going to stay back here for a little while, but I should be with you soon.”

   Eager to rest, Lenk said goodbye and went to see Jonathan. With him finally able to relax, it was damage assessment time. A lot of the team would be gathering in the building’s lounge to discuss the next few days. To be truthful, there was little we could do now.

   When he was out of hearing range, I asked Clarissa a question that had just reared up. “What did you think of Lenk when you first met? Did you think that he was anything like me?”

   To my surprise, she initially answered with a laugh. “You and Lenk? No way! You’re so totally different!”

   “You think we have no similarities whatsoever?”

   “You both annoy me more than any other Hork-Bajir does. Does that count?”

   “No. It doesn’t.” I grumbled.

   “Hmm…” She considered. Just the display of her having to think was giving me a pretty good answer. “I can tell you’re related by looking at you. Personality? No. My first impression of Lenk was the same as it was with, oh, pretty much all other Hork-Bajir that aren’t _seers_. He’s sweet and a little dopey, you know?”

   “I’m not sweet?” I asked with great disappointment.

   “You can be. Sometimes. You and Toby are, you know, too smart to be sweet.”

   I would take whatever I could for a compliment and stood tall with an announcing smile. “I’m smart.” I said, solidifying to the world Clarissa’s conclusion.

   “Jackass.” She added.

   I ran the word through and pulled her up on it. “You can’t call me a jackass.”

   She looked at me quizzically. “Uh, why?”

   “ _Jackass_ means that I’m stupid, but you just said I was smart. You can’t say both.”

   She groaned and shook her head. “That’s not what jackass means, Taku!”

   “So what does it mean?”

   “It means you’re being a jackass. Duh.”

   “I bet you never called Toby a jackass.” I sulked, loosening back into my more natural standing position in front of her.

   “Ha!” She exclaimed. “No way. I just called her Grumpy.”

   I chuckled at how apropos it was. I considered using it, too. Our banter was taking us off course from my line of questioning, though. “So what did you first think of me?”

   She shrugged. “Kinda funny. Not as smart as Toby, you know, but you learned quick.”

   I was satisfied that my trivial question had been answered, quenching my curious mind, but before I could suggest gathering the rest of our team, she threw the question back at me.

   “What did you think of _me_?”

   “Oh. What I thought of you? When we first met?”

   Clarissa rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

   It put me in an awkward position. But I was used to those by then. “We were in Cassie’s house. You came through the door in a big coat, covered in snow. I… I thought you ignored me, because you went to talk to Cassie. Then, when you finally came to see me, I almost didn’t think you were real! I’d never seen a Human with so much make-up and big hoopy earrings! I think those are the same ones,” I mentioned, indicating the metal circles she was wearing. “And I couldn’t understand a word you said. You spoke faster than anybody I knew.”

   Clarissa was listening intently, perhaps not expecting such an answer. To my great relief, she didn’t seem upset. “Yeah, I do talk fast a lot. These aren’t the same earrings though…”

   “I got used to it quickly,” I continued. “I got used to _you_ quickly. I had my doubts at first, but I certainly wouldn’t be the person I am today if it weren’t for you.”

   She grinned with brilliant white teeth. “And you know that you’ll always look good.”

   “My toe nails have never been more well-groomed,” I replied. “Seriously, though, no matter what happens with this, you’ve been wonderful company. I find it no surprise that Cassie entrusted me to you.”

   “Smart girl,” Clarissa mused. “Just wish she was smart enough not to disappear with all this crap going on.”

   “She has a good reason. I believe she’ll be back soon.”

   Clarissa, who had started to watch the camera crew packing up in the background, snapped back to me. “What makes you say that?” She asked.

   “I think that particular mission is complete. Things will be much more complicated when she gets back though. People suspect the truth, and the truth aligns her with criminals. She’ll be keeping a very low profile.”

   “We don’t know the truth.”

   “Maybe not.” I hummed.

   We began to gather the team together with promises of relaxation and coffee. We had reserved the lounge of the gymnasium for half an hour in order to go through some final debriefing as the last of the public outreach was concluded. Upon bringing everybody together before we left for the lounge, I already had a sense of their views. We were all so tired from excessively long days travelling the city, attending meetings and performing speeches. Nobody got the impression that any of it had worked, and that was the most tiring part of it all.

   We all wandered in quietly, the majority heading to the two coffee machines in the corner of the brightly lit room. Purple seats were to the right of the entrance way, two single-files around a pine wood table. At the opposite side of the room were a few potted plants, a brochure rack and a widescreen television set upon the beige wall. FOX was on, now focusing on a different topic, Lenk’s section long forgotten.

   The atmosphere was poor. People were quiet, even when they finally were able to sit back and kick their feet up. They just wanted it to be over and done with, and I couldn’t blame them. I didn’t share in their disappointment, but I was not broadcasting that.

   While most of them sat in the purple seats, I stood off to the side against the wall. Everybody was waiting for Phil to start. He was the one in charge of keeping us updated on public stories and Yellowstone.

   He spent the entire time up until that point staring longingly into his iPhone, rubbing anxiously on his completely bald head. When he was sure nothing new was coming, he gave us the blunt overview in his usual very soft-spoken manner. “I hate to say that it doesn’t look good.”

   There were frustrated sighs. I surveyed the room and watched them all as the dissection began.

   “It hasn’t looked good since it started.” Hernandez groaned, hunched over his coffee.

   “How have we managed to fuck this up?” Phil scowled. “We’ve lost to people who want to build a freeway on top of a national park! That’s Disney movie villain stuff!”

   “It’s a bit more complicated than that. Yeah, we lost, but we did what we could.” Came a reply.

   “We should have done better.” Hernandez added.

   Predictably, I was in the line of fire. Cameron, one of the event organisers, voiced an opinion that I was sure was shared. “We made some stupid decisions. Taku, what the hell were you thinking putting your brother in for all your interviews?!”

   “Yeah, man,” Hernandez said, throwing in his contribution. “It comes to crunch week and you throw in your brother, who has no experience and no goddamn idea! What’s all that about?!”

   “We haven’t had a decision yet,” I urged, neglecting to defend my decision to use my brother. “So we shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. What we _should_ be doing is preparing for whatever is to come.”

   “Face it, Taku,” Phil spoke. “We lost this. If we’re going to prepare for anything, we’ve got to prepare for the worst case scenario.”

   “That still means preparing,” I replied. “Nobody is to blame for the failure here. A small team like ours against the Wyoming State Government and the money of the people pushing for the proposal to pass… We were never favourites to win. We tried, did what we could. We pushed back when we were pushed, and we’ll continue to do that. Remember, this decision is simply to remove the reservation status of Yellowstone. It is separate from the proposal to build the freeway.”

   Hernandez responded, “It makes building a freeway pretty easy, when you can just buy the land. It’s not just the freeway: Anybody can build there with money and permission!”

   “There is a certain percentage of the park that has been given to my people,” I explained. “Toby went through a lot of trouble to ensure us a fair portion of land that would be under limited Hork-Bajir control. It’s not quite sovereign land, but it’s the next best thing. Nobody will buy land there without _my_ permission.”

   “Yeah, so you’re just happy to sacrifice half of Yellowstone because you think that you can’t lose the other half.” He said in return with a hint of disbelief.

   Phil decided to pile more onto that. “And what if private companies take over the entire park’s tourism and the Hork-Bajir charity? You risk losing a hell of a lot of funding.”

   “I know all that,” I mumbled. “I know all the issues we could face if we lose. We’re capable of keeping on top of it all.”

   Nobody believed me, but nobody felt motivated to argue any further, and they all slumped back further in defeat. I didn’t feel it my place, right then, to try to change that. It was okay to sit back and reflect on what was, in the end, a week of hard work that likely ended in failure.

   I went to sit beside Jason, who had kept himself relatively quiet throughout. “Hey Jason.”

   “Hi Taku,” He greeted. “Some week, huh?”

   “Some week,” I agreed. “We did okay. Garnered some more support here and there.”

   He smiled, putting a brave face on the matter. “Your brother has more fans than you now.”

   “No big surprise. Hey, did you manage to get the freeway plans?”

   “Oh, those? Yeah, I got them,” He said, reaching down to rummage through his briefcase. “I got them yesterday, did some searching within the Wyoming governmental files. They’ve been adjusting plans for a few months, but I think they settled on these.”

   He handed me a blue plastic folder. Inside were six or seven stapled clusters of paper. I lifted one out and quickly scanned over it. “Great! Just what I was after. Thank you.”

   “No problem, man. Those plans have pretty much everything you want: Materials, construction plans, routes and estimated construction time frame.”

   “Everything I need,” I commented. “I’ll put this to good use.”


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

   The park was getting steadily warmer as we reintroduced ourselves with the summer months. We had arrived back home to be greeted by the brighter atmosphere and bluer skies, a welcome reprieve from the coldest Winter I had yet experienced. Though the world around us had grown more comfortable, the oncoming news was chaining us back to greyer climate. Lenk and I barely had time to rush back home once back in Yellowstone, and decided to stay with the rest of the team in the Yellowstone Centre, under promises that we would soon hear of a decision.

   The Centre was busy as usual, but pretty much everybody who worked there had shown up to hear the inevitable outcome, gathered closely into the main staff lounge, eyes constantly glancing to the news station on the television screen.

   We assumed that a call would be received before anything arrived on the national broadcasts, but we weren’t taking chances. Whatever the outcome, things were going to get very busy.

   I and my brother were just outside of the lounge area, accompanied by Zak and Clarissa. Clarissa was losing herself in a pocket mirror, and I twiddled my thumbs with painful anticipation. Lenk and Zak, on the other hand, were in a whole world of their own. Sat on either side of a round, raised table with stools, they were caught up in a deep discussion about females.

   “Not even an opening line?” Zak asked.

   Lenk shook his head. He was finding it hard to keep up, evident in his stiff posture and wide, blank eyes. “What meaning?”

   “You didn’t say anything?”

   He shook his head again, this time with a little more certainty. “No. Lenk give bark to Maral. Eat bark.”

   Zak smiled and nodded approvingly. “Man, didn’t even have to say anything! You had her eating outta the palm of your hand, huh?”

   “No.” Lenk replied, bemused.

   I helped out, saying, “He didn’t mean that literally, Lenk.”

   It didn’t help very much. Lenk remained in his bewildered trance.

   Zak, unfettered, continued. “I always wanted to know, man: What do you Hork-Bajir like in a girl Hork-Bajir? You know, us Human guys,” He began to explain, gesturing his hands to himself. “We like girls with, I don’t know… nice tits, nice ass.”

   Clarissa, still finding her mirror far more interesting, was attentive enough to flick out a hand to slap at his arm. “What was that?”

   Zak, still showing off a smile, turned on his stool. “Pretty eyes, baby.”

   Lenk watched on intently, assessing the scenario as best he could. When Zak turned back for an answer, he responded, “Maral is very nice.”

   “Yeah, man, I get that,” Zak said. “But what is it about the body?”

   Lenk was well and truly stumped at this point, so I interjected. “Lenk, he wants to know what about a _kalshi_ ’s body _kalshu_ like. When you first saw Maral, what about her body did you notice?” Then, I thought about what was being asked, and addressed Zak. “That’s very personal, isn’t it?”

   “Hey man, I’m just curious!” He replied.

   Lenk found no reason to avoid the question. “Body.”

   Of course, that was not a satisfactory answer for Zak. “Is it the tail?”

   “Tail?”

   It was Clarissa’s turn to interject. “Zak, honey, maybe Lenk likes a girl for her personality. Did that ever cross your mind?”

   “Sure it did, Clarry,” He chuckled. “That’s why I fell for you.”

   “Really?” She grumbled.

   “Sure thing, baby. That and your pretty eyes.”

   “Maral have pretty eyes.” Lenk spoke up, having finally caught up.

   “Hey! See,” Zak exclaimed triumphantly. “I knew there was something.”

   Something told me that Lenk was just making that up to move things along. I couldn’t blame him.

   But it wasn’t necessary. When Grant Higham rose above the lounge crowd with a ringing business phone in hand, the sense that our wait could be over turned every conversation.

   He spoke to everybody. “Okay everybody. I think this is it. Fingers crossed.”

   With that, he placed the phone to his ears and shuffled his way out of the lounge to a quieter area. A few followed him, but most remained behind to wait for his inevitable announcement. I fell very quiet, leaning against a supporting pillar beside Clarissa, who was just now finishing up her self-grooming to focus more on the occasion at hand.

   “Well, Taku,” She said to me, gazing upwards. “My big green lizard friend, what’s your gut feeling?”

   I shrugged, not sure if I should reveal my preference to her at that moment. “What happens, happens. We’ll work with what we get, I suppose.”

   “Got any spots planned? People might, you know, expect you to say stuff about it.”

   “Nothing planned yet,” I admitted. “Though I’m sure the press will come running. I’m surprised they’re not here now, actually. They’re usually drooling over an easy story.”

   “Maybe they _are_ here,” She giggled. “And if they are, I’m totally prepared. _You_ , however…”

   I laughed. “What? My claws aren’t shiny enough? My eyes aren’t quite illuminated enough?”

   “Well if you want, we could send your brother out there.”

   I snorted. “Are you saying that he looks better than I do?”

   “I’m not saying anything.” She hummed, puckering her lips and glancing up to the ceiling.

   “I suppose he does a better interview than I do,” I considered, scratching my lower jaw. “He certainly carries the Hork-Bajir charm in a way that I can’t.”

   “You lost all your charm when you said that you hated everybody in that one interview.”

   I huffed a short laugh to myself. “Yes. That might have played some part in it. I lost a few fans on that day.”

   “You brought some back,” Clarissa added with her kindest smile. “And then lost them again.”

   “Yes. It’s been less a rollercoaster and more of an infinite descent to hell, hasn’t it?”

   “Hell can be fun. I live with Zak.”

   Zak turned on his stool again upon hearing his name. “What’s that’s, babe?”

   “Nothing, sweety!” Clarissa chirped innocently.

   I found the pair of them wonderfully amusing. Human interactions often could be. Maybe that’s why I spent so much time around them. Unpredictability was exciting.

   It took just a few minutes for Grant Higham to re-emerge from his corner of the building. Everybody began to shuffle, to crowd around the manager, expectant of a result. The room fell deafly silent, and once he felt that he could project his voice to each and every person, Grant gave us the news.

   His first action was to look down to his feet. He didn’t sugar-coat it. “The National Park status of Yellowstone has been removed,” He regretfully announced. “The land is no longer considered a reserve, and so the plans to construct a freeway will begin as soon as possible. There are also plans to build a town near Yellowstone Lake, to the southern side of the freeway. And we ain’t talking a small road. The freeway will be a direct link from Route 15, Idaho Falls and Route 94, Billings, Montana. This is intended to cope with the massively increased tourism that Yellowstone and the State has seen since the arrival of the Hork-Bajir. The town, in the northern sections of Hork-Bajir territory, is intended to be a major tourist destination.”

   Nobody said a word. We all knew that it was coming, but the impact was still hard to take, nonetheless. Everybody seemed to slump forward or look down dejectedly to the ground. Who could have foreseen such a disaster? The Hork-Bajir territory was already small enough, barely creeping up above Yellowstone Lake and down past Grouse Mountain, and Westwards to Jackson Lake. Slamming a great big town and freeway in the middle of that could only be the beginning of the home invasion.

   Needless to say, everybody was feeling very sorry for themselves.

   “We worked hard,” Grant continued in a futile attempt to win back some morale. “Gave it our best shot. But in the end, they run the State. They’re the bus drivers and we’re the passengers. We can yell all we want, but if he wants to turn left… you know what I’m trying to say.”

   Somebody from the crowd asked, “Could we request an expansion of the sovereign Hork-Bajir land?”

   Grant shrugged. “We could try, but I don’t think we’d get very far. We’re lucky to have what we’ve got.”

   Silence befell us again, but only until Clarissa noticed something. “Um, Taku? Why are you smiling?”

   I was indeed smiling. I couldn’t hold it back, and when the room turned around upon hearing Clarissa, it was there for all to see. The smile morphed to a grin and I could hold nothing back any longer.

   “What the fuck is the matter with you, Taku?” Grant called, visibly distressed. “You think this is funny?!”

   “Not funny,” I called joyfully. “It’s wonderful news!”

   The room entirely stumped, I would have to explain myself, but I could not resist taking in the image of everybody’s faces, stricken with every emotion filling the spectrum between confused and completely stunned.

   “What’s wonderful about it?” Came a voice.

   I was on the verge of dancing, feet bobbing up and down like I was ready to jump up to the next floor. “We’re going home! Lenk, brother, we’re going home!”

   He didn’t know how or why, but he could see my conviction and my happiness, and his face brightened. “Home? To Hork-Bajir home?”

   “Yes, brother,” I chimed. “We’ll see it all!”

   Clarissa’s feminine voice poked between ours. “Excuse me? Care to, you know, explain what’s going on?”

   “What’s going on, Taku?” Grant requested, having moved closer to me along with everybody else.

   “I can trigger Clause 15 of the Andalite-Hork-Bajir Allegiance contract!” I blurted, assuming that everybody knew what it meant.

   Silence followed as memories were tracked. Jonathan, stood behind Grant and barely visible, was the first to recall Clause 15. “Clause 15: In the event of an Andalite-neutral or Andalite-aggressive force invading Hork-Bajir living areas, be it homes or resources essential to survival, in a concerted and permanent manner, Clause 15 may be activated. Upon assessment of the scenario, and agreement on validity, the Hork-Bajir are to be given a choice on whether to leave or stay within the territory. On request to leave, the Andal Council is under agreement to arrange transportation for the Hork-Bajir to the most suitable terrain where livelihood is not directly under threat.”

   Jason, stood to Jonathan’s right, looked down to him. “You remember all that?”

   Jonathan adjusted his glasses with a sole finger. “I thought it was common knowledge…”

   Now they were beginning to understand. Heads perked, discussions began. Grant was speechless, almost caught in a trance of disbelief.

   Clarissa responded, “You mean, you, like, had this planned?”

   “Of course!” I laughed. “Why do you think I was so insistent on maintaining the Andalite-Hork-Bajir Alliance?”

   “I… I don’t know…” Came her stuttered reply.

   “Why didn’t you tell us?” Grant asked. “We’ve been working our asses off trying to stop this from happening!”

   “I didn’t want to reveal what I was doing,” I replied with a tinge of guilt. “I trust you all to have my people’s best interests at heart, but if my plans were to leave this building, this might never have happened.”

   Grant accepted that. He saw why I would keep it secret until the very end. “How… This is so goddamn bizarre right now… Are the Andalites going to accept this?”

   I was still beaming, even more so as I voiced my plans, rather than reiterating them in my own head. “They must! The Humans are an Andalite-neutral force now, and the Hork-Bajir-Human alliance was never formally completed! I have the plans showing how they wish to build a great big freeway over land that my people currently live on!”

   Clarissa asked, “How do you know that the Andalites won’t just refuse?”

   “The Andalites can be arrogant and uncaring, yes,” I began. “But they are bound by contract. Their civilisation didn’t rise to such an advanced state by ignoring contracts. Nor would any of their other allies be too pleased upon seeing them refuse the compulsory assistance of another. They would be blind and foolish not to help us, and would only cause themselves more problems.”

   “Have you spoken to them?” Grant asked. Even he was showing more belief at this point.

   “Not yet, but Toby has an appropriate communications device in her office that the Andalites left her when the Alliance was formed. I can use that.”

   Next was Jason’s turn to be sceptical. “Wait, if Clause 15 says that you’ll be taken to the most _suitable terrain,_ who’s to say that they won’t just dump you on some other planet?”

   I grinned, expecting that to come up at some point. “Jonathan, do you remember the contract conditions, too? What does it say about planet suitability?”

   He cleared his throat and fiddled with his bright tie. “Let’s see… uh… Planet suitability is determined by the closeness of atmospheric conditions to the Hork-Bajir Homeworld and the presence of essential resources such as food and water.”

   “Go on.” I prodded.

   “Alternately, if the Hork-Bajir home planet is in a habitable state, then it shall be considered most suitable and the Hork-Bajir may request return.”

   “Aren’t they still cleaning the place up?” Grant questioned. “It’s all polluted, isn’t it?”

   “I believe it’s in a satisfactory condition for us.” I explained.

   Clarissa looked at me like my sanity had long since departed. “How the hell would you know that?”

   “I’ve seen readings. That’s why I’ve been learning the Andalite language! I saw the atmospheric conditions device that they use, and I translated it!”

   That may have lost them a little confidence, but I wasn’t too upset about it. Most of them were looking at me with increased scepticism, and Clarissa voiced the question that they all had. “How did you see it?”

   “I… It doesn’t matter. However, when I talk to the Andalites, I am sure that they will validate my numbers. With the planet in an acceptable condition, that is where we will go!”

   I finished there, my plan satisfactorily explained. I looked around at them, judging their expressions and saw little other than amazement. They were quiet though, expectant for something. I raised my hands slightly to the side, awaiting some new reaction from them. Little did I know that _I_ was the one being waited on.

   “Well,” Grant uttered. “What are you waiting for? Go get that device from Toby’s office!”

   “Oh, right…”

   I excused my way through those who blocked my path to the elevator. Most people stayed behind, but Clarissa and Lenk decided it best to follow along. I told everybody that I wouldn’t be long, and that I would report back on what was said.

   We entered the elevator, and it could barely contain my excitement. “Clarissa, when we get to our floor, I’ll need the briefcase that I left in my office. While I find the communication device, could you please grab it for me?”

   She grinned, stood almost adjacent to me and Lenk. “Will do. Are you sure this is, like, going to work?”

   The elevator doors opened onto our floor as I answered. “I’m sure. And, please, if Governor Mitchell calls, keep him on hold. I’d love to speak to him.”

   “Okay! She called as we jogged down towards the offices, parting ways when I pushed in through Toby’s door.

   I flicked the light switch and felt the cold breeze of an abandoned room sweep over me. Lenk joined me inside and began to admire the décor, as I started to rummage through her desk drawers. The device was not hard to locate, having played around with it the week before to get used to all its buttons and dials.

   It was very compact. Only about the size of my hand, but surprisingly heavy, it was a curious little object that would seem uninteresting if it weren’t for the spring-like apparatus shooting out from the top. The base was white and blue, a combination that the Andalites seemed particularly fond of, but when I switched the device on, it flickered with blurry red lights and buzzed with low, computer rumble. It took a few seconds to power up, and then a small black structure emerged from the front of the base.

   By this point, Lenk was looking over my shoulder. We both sat back as the machine whirred into full action, the small black part shooting up a projection into the space before us. A panel of sorts was the result, in hologramatic form.

   “Human.” I spoke to it. I knew roughly how it operated, and upon hearing the word I spoke it bleeped twice, and what was a bizarre collection of Andalite scribbles – some of it I could now read – suddenly switched to English. I could read it much better that way.

   The office door swung open, and Clarissa hurried in with my briefcase in hand to see us sat at the desk, the hologram partly obscuring us from view.

   “That’s the Andalite phone?” Clarissa probed, joining us on our side of the desk and placing the briefcase beside us.

   “Essentially.” I answered.

   Lenk was dumbfounded, but managed to utter, “Bright like Sun…”

   “Not quite that bright,” I replied. “Okay, let’s find the number.”

   I clipped open the briefcase once I had pulled it close. It was filled with everything that I needed, and I thanked myself that I had found time earlier to organise things neatly for once. I was quickly able to locate Toby’s contacts and began to search for the dog-eared page. Once I had found it, I spoke the details to the device.

   “Personal computer,” I said to it. “I would like to open communications with the following: Council Rarrun-Trevithin-Shravnit, location details: AQ445-T4Q, Andal Coms _Harrack_ 14Y.”

   _Working. Working._ It buzzed.

   “Who’s that?” Clarissa asked me.

   “According to Toby’s files, this is the Andalite we must talk to when Andalite assistance is requested. Probably has many political and military connections, so I imagine he’s a very high rank in whatever field he’s in. If you don’t mind, I’ll need you to back away a little. The machine will project my face to them.”

   Clarissa and Lenk both obediently backed away to a clear distance, just as the quirky little machine found who it was looking for. _Connecting. Connecting_ , it said.

   Suddenly, the hologramatic panel vanished. With a long beep the machine prepared itself, before another image took its place. This one boasted the same bright blue hologramatic glow, but instead of the static panel of links and documents, the animated image of an Andalite head appeared, from ever-active stalk eyes down to the very top of the weak shoulders. He looked intense, a visage that perhaps dawned from his age and the intelligence I could picture from the calculating stare that he picked me apart with. I imagined that the experience old figure spent most of his time around those of his own kind, or races a little closer to home, so to see my unfamiliar face may have brought with it a suspicious unnaturalness.

   My own face was illuminated in a bright light, casting my own image over as a hologram to his side. The slightest tingling of nerves arrived, but I was able to act over it, raising my posture and steadying my facial expression.

   “Communication being received,” Rarrun spoke, his voice coming through a speaker on the device, some static also sneaking through. “This is Rarrun-Trevithin-Shravnit of the Andal Interplanetary Association.”

   “This is Taku Kelmut, speaking to you from Earth,” I replied. “I’m here to discuss an urgent matter regarding a situation with the Humans and my people.”

   There was a delay. Four or five seconds, which seemed more than acceptable considering the distance of communication. When my message was being received, I noticed his eyes narrow.

   His message came through, “Taku Kelmut… My device informs me that you are speaking using a unit provided to one Toby Hamee,  governor of the Hork-Bajir. A name change?” He looked downwards and to the left. “And a sex change?”

   “I am not Toby Hamee. I am using her communication device to speak to you about this urgent matter.”

   I waited for the delay to pass. “You have not been authorised to use this communications device. Where is Toby Hamee?”

   “She is missing,” I responded. “And has been so for quite some time. I am speaking as the stand-in governor of the Hork-Bajir while she is absent. I have taken on her duties and therefore feel it my duty to communicate with you now.”

   The delay came, and then a few more seconds of silence followed. Eventually he accepted. “What is it you wish to report, Taku Kelmut?”

   “The Humans have proposed and passed plans to have a large, permanent structure build over current Hork-Bajir homes. This will remove them from those homes, and will also reduce overall Hork-Bajir territory, which my people have not consented to and whose voices have been ignored. Therefore, I wish to bring forward a request to act on Clause 15 of the Andalite-Hork-Bajir Alliance, which states that such actions requires us to be taken to a more suitable planet. I further request that our own home planet be considered most suitable, given its current atmospheric conditions.”

   He watched me with a great suggestion of doubt, then replying, “Okay, Taku Kelmut, I’m currently looking over the Alliance Agreement now…”

   I watched as his main eyes subtly moved from side to side. One of his stalk eyes remained on me, causing me to feel somewhat intimidated. With that awkwardness, I looked backwards to check on Lenk and Clarissa. Lenk was sat quietly, but I had turned just in time to see Clarissa fussing over her phone as it gently buzzed in her hand. She pulled it up to her ear and scurried to the other side of the office.

   Rarrun got back to me. “The Hork-Bajir Alliance was formed shortly after the formation of the Andalite-Human Alliance, and therefore was created under the assumption that the Andalite-Human Alliance would remain. Clause 15 was added with the intention of maintaining the Hork-Bajir if another foreign race were to intervene, not Humans.”

   “Yes,” I agreed. “But since the breakdown of the Human alliance, they are now considered an Andalite-neutral force. Surely, they must therefore fall under that definition.”

   It was a long five seconds. “Yes. They do. They fall under that definition.”

   I smiled, having passed that stumbling block. “Then I assume I am right to request action on Clause 15?”

   “Yes, so long as we can have some further information, Taku Kelmut. We need to see what exactly the Human plans entail, and we also need clarification that your people refused these plans, and that this is not solely your decision as… _stand-in_ Governor.”

   “I have it.” I said. I brought my briefcase closer and started to remove pieces one-by one. In turn, I picked up the documents illustrating the freeway plans and held them before the illuminating light of the communications device. The device altered its focus, and I held the document there for enough seconds to ensure it had been seen at good resolution. I repeated the progress for each document. “Those are the Humans’ plans. I will send scans of them in their entirely, along with evidence of my peoples’ refusal for the plans to go ahead.” Having put down all the documents, I reached back into the bag and pulled out a small metallic item, not too dissimilar to a USB stick. Earlier, I had placed all my evidence onto it via some very confusing software that Toby had on her computer. I plugged it into the side of the communications device. “Sending now.”

   It took a while for the sending of data. Granted, there was a lot on the stick. Not only were there scans of all of the documentation, but I had also added numerous videos: each of Lenk’s television interviews, and every _Hork-Bajir Homes_ episode that concentrated on the area to be built over. It would be more than enough evidence of my peoples’ refusal of the freeway plans.

   Sometime later, the files had all made their way over. Rarrun hummed. “I have everything from the storage capsule. I must now see another of your people.”

   Lenk was here. How fortunate! I beckoned him over quietly and, before he stood into the light, I introduced him. “This is Lenk, one of my people.”

   Lenk, wary of this new means of communicating, cautiously moved to where I had been stood. He didn’t quite know what to do, until the five second delay had passed and Rarrun spoke up.

   “What is your name, Hork-Bajir?” He asked.

   “Lenk Kelmut.”

   The Andalite raised an eyebrow and considered. “Kelmut… You are related to Taku Kelmut?”

   “Taku is Lenk brother!” He said back proudly.

   In no way should it have invalidate Lenk’s opinion. Thankfully, after initial suspecting grumbles, Rarrun moved along with his question.

   “Lenk Kelmut,” He started. “Taku Kelmut, who claims to be the stand-in governor of the Hork-Bajir, has provided evidence that a foreign force plans to invade current Hork-Bajir living space. He has suggested that we activate a response whereby your people will be moved from Earth to a more suitable planet. Would you, Lenk Kelmut, choose to remain on Earth or leave to another planet?”

   There were many long words that I was worried he would not clearly understand. But, much credit to him, he had been taking in a lot of information since the trip to New York and he understood the gist of what was being said. He didn’t hesitate. “Lenk want to go home. Back to Hork-Bajir home planet.”

   “Thank you. That will be all.” Rarrun said to him. I thanked Lenk for his contribution and retook my place back in front of the device’s light.

   “Is anything else required?” I asked.

   “If you could acquire the opinions of a few more of your people, Taku Kelmut, then that should be fine. It’s not that your brother’s opinion doesn’t count, but you understand how some on the council may find it suspicious, so I would recommend given us more in that regard. For now, it’s fine. Now, you mentioned – and your brother mentioned – your home planet…”

   I nodded. “Yes, the Hork-Bajir home planet. I believe it should be considered the most suitable planet for us.”

   He grew that doubtful look again. “I have nothing here to tell me that any results on the planet’s atmospheric conditions have been made available in the last two Earth years. Two-and-a-half, sorry. Not only that, but in the last batch, your planet was shown to be unsuitable for safe living.”

   “I have reason to believe that the conditions have improved since the last report,” I said in return. “Carbon Dioxide percentage has dropped below the living maximum of point-5 percent, and both oxygen and argon levels have returned to those in pre-war times. The aim of the planet restoration was based on restoring those previous atmospheric conditions, and, should I be correct, that will have been achieved.”

   He didn’t know what to say about the results. It was not his place to do so, as he was no scientist, nor was he based on the planet. It must be why he passed it. “I don’t know about the numbers, Taku Kelmut, but what I will do is request a report from the Hork-Bajir home world as first priority to validate those numbers. You must realise, however, that should you be wrong, we will not be able to transport your people back to that planet.”

   “I understand.”

   “As for the request to act on Clause 15… I will raise it with the Interplanetary Council. If we need any further information, we will contact you. I will put Toby Hamee’s communications device under your name so there’ll be no more confusion. Once we have explored the evidence and come to a decision, we will get back to you. Keep this device nearby at all times.”

   “I will,” I said. “And thank you.”

   The communication was cut. The light illuminating my face faded and the buzzing of the machine slowed to a near stop. The static hologramatic panel return, until I asked it to shut down. I placed the device into my briefcase, as well as the documents I had used.

   Then I lifted my right arm to a ninety-degree angle, fingers spread. When I felt Clarissa place the phone into my waiting claws, I took it and assuredly placed it to my ear.

   “Hello?” I spoke into it.

   “Ah,” Grunted a familiar voice. “Taku. So good that we can speak again.”

   “Yes, Governor Mitchell. It’s been a while.”

   I could decipher his smugness melting through to my eardrums. The cocky snarl of victory was deep-engrained into his nasally tone. “I just heard. It’s been decided that Yellowstone will no longer be a national reserve. Did you hear about it?”

   I kept my voice as sombre as I could manage. “Yes, I heard about it just now.”

   “A shame, really,” He sniggered. “Though I’m sure the nicest areas will remain untouched. Nobody’s going to want to build a McDonalds on every geyser.  There will be a few street corners, though…”

   “I can imagine.” I grumbled back.

    “Well, anyway, Mr Kelmut, I’m calling to congratulate you on a hard fought battle. Wait… sorry, _your brother_. He certainly made it difficult, didn’t he? Never mind. I suppose we’ve all learnt a valuable lesson through this ordeal.”

   “Oh?” I snorted. “What lesson have you learnt, Governor?”

   “Good question… I’ll work on that.”

   “Just as much as you’ll be working on your new freeway?”

   He laughed. “No, no. I’ve done my work. I have other people doing that now. Shouldn’t be too long before things really get started!”

   “Ah, good, good,” I huffed. “Well, we wish you the best with the endeavour. Too bad we won’t be around to see the results.”

   The sound over the phone took a swift turn. I could sense that his smile had been well and truly wiped away. “Excuse me?”

   Now was my turn to laugh. “Oh, I’m sure that your constituents will absolutely love you, Governor Mitchell. Can you imagine it? The man who rid Wyoming of its beloved National Park. And its inhabitants.”

   Silence on his side. I wasn’t going to give him the time to think it over.

   “So once you’re done saying goodbye to Yellowstone, you can say goodbye to us. Good day, Governor!”

   I hung up.


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

   The air at the building’s entrance was entrenched in the chattering of the journalists camped outside. It always amazed me how swiftly a mob could arise at the slightest sniff of a story. I guess, when your job depends on promptness, it should come as no big surprise. I was under no such pressure, and, in fact, when the journalists finally arrived, I decided to continue my lunch break for the remaining thirty-five minutes before I would even consider entertaining them.

   I even overstayed my break. Given the jovial mood of the Yellowstone Centre, Grant was more than happy for me to laze about. It was his reward to me for a job well done.

   Oh, and he was extra pleased when I told him that all the money I had and would earn from my media career would be divided up equally between the Centre’s staff. Considering the likely future scenario, a lot of money would be coming in.

   After all, in a couple years’ time or so, the building would be redundant. Unless it was repurposed, the staff would be looking for jobs elsewhere. They were all very upset at first, but they cheered up once I had estimated the amount of money they would be leaving with.

   Honestly, I would take them all home with me. They really would give their all for the comfort and well-being of my people. At the very least, I would ensure communication between planets would be possible.

   A few days after my request to the Andalites, the decision came back. They had deemed it a valid request, and would immediately begin preparations to carry out the actions necessary under Clause 15 of the Andalite-Hork-Bajir Alliance. The numbers that I had given Rarrun, regarding the planetary conditions, were almost perfectly accurate, much to the surprise of those running the tests. (Apparently, they were holding onto the results until Toby Hamee’s next demand. They didn’t want to spend the money without absolutely needing to.)  I broke the news to the Yellowstone Centre staff, and there was a night of celebration. They celebrated for the victory of my people.

   So I made an announcement on my blog. It wasn’t much, really…

   _Thanks to Wyoming’s State Governor Mitchell, Wyoming will now lose both its National Park and its Hork-Bajir. Thanks to the Andalites, we’ll be going back to our own, healthy planet very soon. No freeways there!_

   After a few questions that stemmed from said blog post, the media got the gist of what I was implying. Within no time, they had arrived. They awaited my clarifications.

   I was laid back on the biggest lounge sofa, so utterly relaxed and satisfied like I had never been before. My tail gently swayed from left to right, right to left over the edge of the big leather arm rest, enjoying the cool air.

   “Are you, like, ever gonna get up?”

   “Please, Clarissa,” I groaned. “Just five more minutes. I’m comfortable.”

   She leant forward into my line of vision, hands clasped to her waist, eyebrows raised with a tinge of frustration. “They’re noisy. Go give them what they need. Then you can have another nap. God, all you’ve done is sleep today!”

   “I’m relaxing.” I huffed with an unrelenting grin. When I felt her pull at my arm, I sighed away the laziness and slowly but surely rolled from the edge of the sofa. I stretched when I rose to my feet, reaching my arms upwards to tap my claws against the high ceiling.

   Clarissa was stood nearby. She tutted at my petty time-wasting. “Come on, Taku. As soon as this is done, I can go home. I’m so tired!”

   “But you haven’t made my face look a slightly different shade of green, yet.” I whined.

   Of course, that meant that the grooming kit came flying out from its hiding spot. How lovely that extra ten minutes of relaxing was, even if it did involve powder getting lost up my nostrils.

   I was going to look my best today, and not just physically.

   With the finishing touches, Clarissa chirped her approval. “You look like a million dollars. See? Keeping still makes it much easier!”

   “I fell asleep.” I replied.

   “Whatever. Go knock ‘em dead, space lizard.”

   “I will, primate.”

   She followed me to the front doors of the Yellowstone Centre where three security guards were holding out the reporters. Bright sunshine beamed through the glass rectangles of the front entrance and the great windows that stood high above them, filling the main hall with brightness, but through the clear doors I could make out a thick, black blotch from which no light reflected. Only from the vague hints of camera lenses could any light be seen from the shadow that lurked on the outside of the Yellowstone Centre. It did not daunt me in the slightest.

   “Ready?” One of the guards asked when Clarissa and I arrived on the carpeted entranceway.

   I smiled to him, noticing that he was just so slightly taller than I was. “You’re tall for a Human.” I commented.

   “Helps with the job, Mr Kelmut.” He said back with barely a flinch.

   “It’s good to have you on the team,” I said. “And even better that you arrived so quickly. How many of you are there?”

   “32 Bravo Security Force is 86 strong, and is stationed at six main sites around the Hork-Bajir territory, Mr Kelmut. If any trouble starts, we’ll be quickest to arrive.”

   I nodded. “Thank you. What is your name?”

   “Greg, Mr Kelmut.”

   “Thank you, Greg,” I repeated. “That’s good news. Now I’m ready.”

   With a nod and a subtle hand signal, the three members of the security team came to surround me. Entirely massive in stature, the three combined made me feel somewhat insignificant, but I was ever grateful for their presence. One of the two nameless guards announced through a walkie-talkie that we were set to exit, and I assumed that those guards outside were falling into formation. They were taking no chances.

   With Clarissa in tow, we strayed into the brightness. Looking over Greg’s left-hand shoulder, I could see the approach of ravenous cameras, bringing an overindulgent sidekick of shouts and calls for my instant attention alongside. We made a path directly rightwards when we came through the building’s entrance, towards a small raised patio where the rest of the security was forming a secluded zone for me to stand. It was meant to be a smoking area, but the bench had been removed for this particular occasion, instead acting as my podium.

   When I took my step up onto the raised tiles, the nine-man security formed a perimeter as the journalists grew more and more eager to hear from me. I positioned myself comfortably in the centre of my platform, my vantage point gifting me sight of many of the faces that gazed back at me with expectation. Microphones and cameras were rapidly erupting from the gaps between the guards, but they had no problem holding firm and allowing nothing more to pass through.

   Questions were called, accusations spat. Softball and hardball enquiries all rolled into one blurred boulder. I didn’t recognise faces.

   “Taku Kelmut! Taku Kelmut!” Cried a blonde-haired female who had her microphone stretched out towards me from around Greg’s shoulder. “What is your reaction to the loss of Yellowstone as a reserve?!”

   “Kelmut!” Shouted another from close by. “Could you clarify your blog post about going back to your own planet?!”

   “What about your remarks on Governor Mitchell?!”

   “Are your people really going home?!”

   “What do you think of the rumors that you’re lying to cover your failure to protect Yellowstone?!”

   It was getting nowhere. Answering one-liners would never get my true message across. So, after mumbling to myself to prepare my throat for a long speech, I raised my chest, pulled in a big load of air and released it back to the world in a brutal bellow, the kind used to communicate with long-distance localities.

   The journalists froze entirely. Oh, what a wonderful feeling. I felt Clarissa pat me on the arm with congratulations.

   Noticing that the microphones were still raised, I moved along to give my words. “Sorry about the scream, but I wanted to get your firm attention. I understand that my blog post has caused somewhat of a stir since it was posted, especially in the wake of the decision to remove Yellowstone’s status as a national reserve. Rightfully so. This decision was in no way a small decision, or an insignificant one. It was important for both our peoples mutually.”

   When I glanced around, I was happy to see that they were all paying full attention. Cameras were rolling. I had them in the palm of my hand.

   “All this time, I have conceded to myself that the Governor is correct in saying that our presence invalidates the park’s status. My people are a foreign entity, and though our effects on the natural ecosystem are limited, it means that Yellowstone is no longer the reserve that it used to be.

   “However, that does not mean that Governor Mitchell is right to take this course of action. That status is what protects my people. It is what ensures that Humans can not diminish our land, cannot steal our homes. That is part of the reason that Yellowstone was chosen all those years ago to house us. We were to be protected, because even though most Humans have good intentions, many have not. My people have been murdered. One of my good friends was murdered not too long ago. When the _Horvallack_ _Documents_ leaked, over a dozen of my people were killed. Why? Some Humans are paranoid. Some think that we’re in league with the Andalites, who have betrayed the entire Human race. Some simply don’t like us because… because of reasons I can’t fathom.

   “Now Governor Mitchell has taken from us one of our most important protections. Our homes will be torn down for concrete, our camps demolished for a McDonalds or a KFC. Hork-Bajir will be squeezed into smaller and smaller territory until something eventually breaks. We are no longer seen as refugees, but as a novelty. A tourist attraction. Many will see my people as a money-making machine, hence the building of this freeway and whatever else is built. Money has been placed as priority over my people’s happiness and living.

   “It would be a mistake to allow this, a disaster of attitude, much like when the Yeerks initially took our home from us. I hear many stories from friends whose families were there when the Yeerks arrived. When the Yeerks came… they didn’t know how to react! They didn’t know what it meant! The Hork-Bajir had little concept of hurt. They never hurt each other, and there was little around to hurt them. So when the Yeerks hurt them, they didn’t know they were hurt at all! Their friends would disappear, or be dragged away. They could be attacked. And my people would take such little notice because it didn’t register!

   “But my people have learnt from that. We know what hurt is now. We know what danger is and we know what fear is. We know that something has to be done to avoid it. This time, when we are pushed, we will push back. We will not fold again like we did when the Yeerks invaded our homes. We cannot show leniency. We cannot be weak when our livelihood is challenged. We will stand up for ourselves and do what we need to do to ensure our lives are happy and free.

   “With that in mind, I announce that the Hork-Bajir homeworld is now of a satisfactory condition for our return.”

   Voices began to bubble up. They had listened thus far, but that soundbite was enough to pull out the questions that they wanted to ask. I had to carry on before it became uncontrollable.

   “Though it was not originally planned for us to return until conditions reached a certain level, it means that, when Clause 15 of the Andalite-Hork-Bajir Alliance agreement was triggered, the home world became the most suitable planet for our switch. I, over the last few days, have negotiated with the Andalites, and have successfully argued my case for Clause 15 to be activated.”

   The blonde reporter called out before I could continue. “Does that mean that the Hork-Bajir are leaving Earth?!”

   “Yes. We will be leaving Earth. It will take a year or two for transportation to be prepared, but no longer. The removal of Yellowstone’s status, and the discovery of the plans for the freeway to be built, falls under invasion of Hork-Bajir living areas by an Andalite-neutral force, according to our races’ agreement. Under those conditions, the Andalites are contracted to transport us. So you can give thanks to Governor Mitchell, and his lack of foresight, for ridding Wyoming of both its national park and its most beloved tourist attraction. I would, however, like to thank everybody for their continued support of our cause, and for the temporary home that has been provided for us while our planet was recovered. The Hork-Bajir will be forever grateful for this help. For those that wish us harm, I will remind you that security around the park has been greatly strengthened, and will soon be bolstered by an Andalite Guard Force, tasked with protected their allies until the transportation process is complete. I will _not_ accept any further harm to my people, and nor will the Andalites. Thank you.”

   The journalists burst into a chorus of noise, but I was done. I had nothing more to give, and I wouldn’t push any further nerves on my detractors with a chirpy smile or a wave. Not even Clarissa felt secure in doing that, and she slunk to my side as I descended from my platform to again be curled up in a circle of my guards. The journalists were relentless, but I was safe from them.

   The air was quieter back inside the Yellowstone Centre and I embraced it with open arms. The guards locked the doors behind us while they waited for the journalists to give up and leave. Not that I cared. They could stay as long as they wanted.

   Jonathan and Jason approached as I stood in the open reception area, tapping my toes and grinning inanely to myself. They had been watching the live broadcast, along with most everybody else at work on that day. They offered their congratulations.

   “You were brilliant, Taku!” Jonathan sang, shaking my hand profusely.

   Jason slapped me lightly on the shoulder. “Loved the speech, man! Best I’ve seen in a while. You nailed it.”

   “Thank you both,” I said to them. “Your work has been amazing, as has your company. I want word out: Celebratory meal next Tuesday. Everybody is invited. Jonathan, I’ll leave it up to you to find a place.”

   “No problem, boss!”

   Speaking of boss, I saw Grant Higham swooping over. I twitched my snout twice to dismiss Jonathan and Jason just in time for his arrival. He looked impressed.

   “Well done, Taku,” He congratulated, shaking my hand with a grin. “Toby would be proud.”

   “Thank you, Grant,” I replied. “I’ve been told that security is in place around the park.”

   He nodded. “Yes. I got confirmation over the phone. All major entrances to Hork-Bajir territory are under surveillance, and other areas are being patrolled.”

   “Hopefully that will be enough to deter people until the Andalites arrive.”

   “And when should they be arriving?”

   “The Guard Force is to come from the fleet that just left Earth, so they are only a few weeks away. I’d say three, maybe four, giving time for them to prepare.”

   “Okay. Also, one little thing…” He exhaled, rubbing at his temple. “Will they be involving themselves with us here?”

   I huffed a small laugh. “Unfortunately so. We’ll be thankful for the guards. This place will also be under watch as a potential threat zone, so everybody working here needs to be cautious. Hopefully, the Andalites will have a more accessible attitude than some that I have met so far…”

   “Hopefully.” He repeated. Then he laughed. “You know, Kelmut, I had my doubts about you.”

   “Don’t let go of them yet,” I advised. “Not until I’m sat on the home world, stuffing myself silly with _miftut_ sap.”

   He shook his head. “You’re home free, kid. You’re home free.”


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

We were braced for hell on Earth. We didn’t quite expect hell to be so explosive.

   I could consider myself somewhat flattered by some of the names I received. When people called me _seer_ , it wasn’t decorated with a disbelieving sneer. I was no longer the deceiver that had snuck out briefly from Toby Hamee’s mountainous shadow, stealing what little limelight I could in her absence and gaining little more than failure at every turn.

   I was Taku Kelmut, the _seer_ that was taking his people home.

   Of course, that was the opinion of some. Those who weren’t _some_ were a little less admiring. My critics were more critical than ever and the madmen were madder still. Security around the park had reported numerous failed attempts to attack vulnerable Hork-Bajir. Three had, to my greatest sadness, succeeded. I saw to it that the perpetrators received the worst punishment it was legal to give.

   Things had improved, though. The Andalite Guard Force had arrived and was quick to install outposts around the Hork-Bajir perimeter. They were, as expected, grumpy, arrogant and reluctant, but I will give them the credit that they are loyal to their duties. With the added technology and defences, my people could rest much easier at night.

   That’s not to say that the disagreeable Humans stopped trying. In fact, having Andalites in the area only worked to increase the outrage and activities of those minorities, but the Andalites had very advanced ways with which to deal with such threats.

   Most vocal of all was Governor Mitchell. I loved to see him squirm as the conclusions to the saga were baring themselves. He had lost spectacularly, and I had called him back several times since to offer my deepest sympathies. He really didn’t like me.

   He said that he would get me back. I explained how the favor would be returned ten-fold. He was much quieter afterwards.

   To summarise, the Humans were getting to grips with the idea that we were leaving. That meant attention around the Hork-Bajir skyrocketed. Bookings to come visit Yellowstone were at highs not recorded since Hork-Bajir were first open to the public. They wanted to see my people before they would lose that chance. Not only that, but demand for Hork-Bajir in media productions had increased, and requests for me to personally appear was past manageable. I was going to be making television appearances almost full-time, not only in America but around the globe. In fact, in a month, I was due to appear on the BBC’s Big Questions, a British programme. I was in the middle of negotiating a trip to Australia, too.

   I didn’t do it for myself. I did it for the team. When my people leave, they will have no job. Instead of putting them through the agony of job hunting, I would raise what money I could to spread between them. I was going to arrange whatever I could.

   Mother and Father would understand. After all, I would be able to spend as much time with them as I could want back on the home world. Oh, and Lenk would be making the odd appearance, too.

   I was pleased with myself, to put it lightly.

   Not so pleased to be stuck in my office on such a beautiful summer day. I had opened the window to let in a cool breeze, but the light on my back beckoned me to the trees. I had to apologise to the outdoors, because there were letters to organise.

   I most definitely wouldn’t miss those. Nonetheless, while they were here, they needed to be read. There was the usual garbage, the frequent travel notification and, on very rare occasions, something I actually had to pay mind to. I hadn’t seen one of those in a while.

   Well, I had little choice but to stop reading for five minutes and watch a mindless video on YouTube. I tapped some words onto my laptop, grabbed a half-eaten slab of bark and sat back in my custom-made seat. The bark was extra crunchy, just how I liked it.

   Over the sounds of the YouTube video commentary, I could just barely hear the sounds from out the window. I paid no notice to the flutter of feathers as a bird landed on the windowsill. I did, however, take notice when the fluttering came closer and I felt the tight grip of talons clutch around my second head blade.

   I was used to the rare bird finding its way into the office and flying around till it found the window again, but this was a new experience. The creature wasn’t small either. I tried to look upwards, turning my head back. I could just make out the wings that spread to keep the bird balanced. They were white on the underside, with dark brown edges to the outer feathers.

   I got a better view when the bird found an empty spot on my desk to drop down on. It was a bird of prey, and I had seen a couple of this particular species before. I recognised the white underside and the dark brown feathers on top. It had the typical, large yellow talons that were indicative of its predatory lifestyle. The red tail feathers were very distinctive.

   “Hello, bird.” I greeted.

   ((Hey.))

   I was not familiar with speaking birds, so I was a little stunned. The voice came into my head, not as spoken word but as a psychic echo. I had heard it before.

   “Oh,” I coughed. “How are you?”

   ((I’m well, thanks.)) The feathered reptile replied.

   “I will admit that I’ve never spoken to a bird before. I’m a little lost for words!” I uttered.

   ((That’s understandable. Ever wanted to ask a bird a question?))

   “Yes, actually,” I said. “What is it like to fly?”

   ((It’s okay. In the right weather, it’s a lot of fun.))

   “Beautiful weather today, isn’t it?”

   ((Yeah. It’s nice.))

   I had never compiled questions to ask a bird, and I truly was baffled beyond words. A silence followed. Maybe he was expecting me to ask something else. Eventually, he decided that he would be the one to speak up.

   ((You must be Taku Kelmut.))

   “Yes! I am. What is your name? I’d hate to keep calling you Bird.”

   ((Tobias. Nice to meet you, Taku.))

   “Nice to meet you, too.”

   Now it made sense. I had read about this person… _bird_. One of the Animorphs, the famed group of warriors.

   Tobias was the one who saved Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak all those years ago, the beginning of my people’s resurrection from slavery. A dear friend of the Hork-Bajir, who even during wartime would visit and sit amongst such foreign aliens. Stories I had heard described him as a kind, caring individual, but also reclusive and reticent. He disappeared some time ago, but his voice was eerily familiar.

   Suddenly, I felt very overwhelmed. I craned my neck, lowered my head more to his level. This was no mere bird in any sense.

   “Sorry,” I stuttered. “I probably seem like a complete ignoramus.”

   ((No. You’re okay.))

   I smiled. “It’s very nice of you to come say hello. I thought you had disappeared a few years ago.”

   ((I did, I guess,)) I swear that he shrugged. Such a strange motion coming from a bird. ((But we’re back now.))

   “ _We’re_ ….?” I breathed.

   My eyes were alerted to a new presence in the room when Tobias’ little bird head flicked in the direction of the office door. There stood a Hork-Bajir.

   Toby was staring down at the pair of us. My instinct was to blink, then to rub my eyes. She remained there, looking worn and tired like I had never seen before. Her body was slumped and shaken, her eyes half-open, brightness absent.

   But she was there. She was no illusion this time.

   I rose from my chair and closed the laptop that was still playing the YouTube video. “Toby,” I gasped. “You’re back!”

   “You look surprised.” She replied, and smiled despite her weary state.

   “And you look…” I stopped myself.

   She nodded, accepting the words I was too hesitant to speak. “Alive, Taku. I’ll need to rest for a few days. Or weeks.”

   ((Months,)) Tobias added. ((It’s been tough.))

   “Where is Cassie?” I asked them both.

   Toby replied, “She is back at home. It’s best that you give her a few days to recover before you pay a visit.”

   I pulled myself out from behind my desk, avoiding Tobias, and stepped up towards my mentor. I was taller than her now, maybe by an inch or more. It might have been her slightly slouched figure. We stared hard into each other’s eyes. Beyond the tiredness and the weariness, I dug out the _seer_ that had tutored me long ago.

   “You left me by myself in the middle of a Human city,” I spoke. “You dropped all your work on me and jumped out a window without as much as a goodbye. Clarissa had left, Cassie went with you. I had nobody.”

   She didn’t break eye contact. She was open with her guilt. “I’m sorry, Taku. I had to leave. You are aware of why.”

   “Of course. I figured it out eventually. I am grateful for the help.”

   Toby smiled again. “And it’s not like you really needed me. Look what you’ve achieved, Taku.”

   “You know?”

   “I’m looking forward to returning home.”

   How could I possibly think that she didn’t know? Of course she did. “Well, if you were looking forward to taking up your old job, then you are going to be disappointed.”

   She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes quizzically.

   “For abandoning your duties, I am relieving you of your position as Governor of the Hork-Bajir with immediate effect. I will take the position in your place and continue the work that I have started in your absence.”

   She brightened and raised her posture. A big grin appeared across her snout. “Very well, Governor Kelmut. I will help in whatever way I can.”

   We dipped our heads forwards, allowing the blades to connect.

   “Your mother has been worried about you,” I told her. “You had best go speak to her. She will tell you all sorts of stories.”

   We broke the kiss. “Seriously? I’d rather sleep. I imagine you have some stories for me.”

   “Plenty. And you for me?”

   She shook her head. “Many, but I will not tell them now.”

   There came that flutter again. Tobias flew up into view and landed neatly on one of Toby’s head blades. ((I can tell one or two.))

   “Everybody has stories to tell,” I said. “I can’t imagine mine will be as exciting as yours. Anyway, it will have to wait. I have work to do until five. Will you be around, Tobias? I would love to speak to you more.”

   ((I will. And what work? You were watching internet videos when I flew in!))

   I glanced away. “I was taking a little break…”

   “Sure you were.” Toby muttered.

   “You know how boring this job can be,” I laughed. “I can’t imagine you going a full day in your office without watching the occasional YouTube video. You would probably watch something even more boring than the paperwork!”

   “The things I watched were very exciting, actually.” She huffed matter-of-factly.

   “I’ve seen your blog posts. They’re as dry as a British documentary.”

   ((Agreed.)) Tobias added.

   Toby looked upwards at him. “Please don’t take his side, Tobias,” Then she spoke back to me. “Speaking of my office, I assume it was you who left it in such a mess.”

   “Well… Yes. Yes, that was me.”

   She was amused. “All the picture frames are wonky. You tried to take the one of me with the President, I noticed.”

   “Nothing escapes your attention,” I grunted. “But I have no need for that anymore. I will be meeting with the President in two months. I will have a picture of my own.”

   Toby nodded, and Tobias tried to keep balanced. “Very well. I’ll clean my office when I come back, though I can’t imagine my to-do list will ever be the same again. I’m going to go home for some sleep.”

   She smiled warmly to me and turned to exit the office, but before she could place her fingers around the door handle, it began to open. In stepped Clarissa.

   The last thing she expected to see was Toby standing in front of her with a hawk sat on her head. She jumped, squeaking and almost dropping her handbag, her earrings jangling.

   “Toby!” She gasped. “You…”

   “Hello Clarissa.” Toby said to the bewildered supervisor.

   I don’t know what I expected. Questions about her absence, a chastising for her abandonment of duty, a big embrace for an old friend… Maybe I _should_ have expected the next words out of Clarissa’s mouth.

   “God, Toby,” She sighed. “You look awful. Come on, I’ve got my gear in my locker. You’ll look ten years younger!”

   And with that, Toby was dragged by the hand out of the office. We exchanged glances just as her head left through the closing door. She looked distraught. Tobias had since flown back to the desk.

   ((So, Taku,)) He started. ((What story do you want to hear?))


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

   My name is Taku.

   That’s a Hork-Bajir name. The name of a relative three generations in the past. A relative who was cruelly taken from his home and forced into complete slavery by an evil parasitic race called the Yeerks. Apparently, he used to make the best cooked _Raaklij_ bark. Not that I’d ever tried it before. I wouldn’t even know what a _Raaklij_ looked like.

   I had never met Great Grandfather Taku. He lost his life during the Yeerk war. According to those who knew him, he was killed by an Andalite warrior.

   I’ve met Andalites. They’re like a bowl of pick’n’mix: You never know what you’re going to get, and, especially being a Hork-Bajir, I dislike the majority of them. They have their uses though, and some of them can make good company. The Andalites that guarded my people were, contrary to my initial opinion, very agreeable. You learn something new every day. Learning something new means that you were wrong before.

   Being wrong was something I was very good at. Thankfully, I was good at learning, too. That comes with being a _seer_. I’m sure you’ve heard that word being thrown around before.

   Dak Hamee. Toby Hamee. And now, Taku Kelmut.

   I was sure that more would have filled the gaps. Perhaps we weren’t as rare as people thought. I certainly wouldn’t raise my own self-importance in the naïve view that I’m somehow superior to my peers. Far from it. I envy my people’s care-free, unconditional optimism and their inner peace. Surely, that is superior to a cold, calculating mind.

   That inner peace is what I sought after today, but all I ended up doing was retelling my own story in my head. It made me thankful for everything: Who I was, what I was doing and who I held close. Despite my flaws and mistakes, people had stuck by me and pulled me through the dirt to the finish line.

   The finish line? I guess we’re not there yet, but we’re a certainty at this stage. All opposition has collapsed in a heap and been sent to hospital. We could cruise the final straight and stop halfway for a coffee break.

   The finish line is home, and that’s where we’re headed.

   In the meantime, there was still much work to be done, and I had sat on this maple tree, gazing into nothingness far longer than I had originally anticipated. I suppose relaxation does that. It’s been so long since I could truly indulge in it.

   My slab of maple was all gone, and my hunger had been satiated. I had boosted my ego suitably with my own story. What could one possibly do from that point on?

   I could go visit Clarissa and get my face covered in powder. I could go to the Yellowstone Centre and be reminded of work. I could go to sleep and wake up wondering where all my free time had gone.

   But my mind was made up for me. I knew it couldn’t take Ruga long to find me, and find me he did. His head sprang up from behind a branch a few trees away.

   “Find Taku!” He called. “See big toes from long way!”

   “My _big toes_ make me quicker than you, Ruga!” I replied, standing up on my branch and bouncing lightly up and down.

   Ruga wasn’t approaching. He remained on his tree, not yet pulling himself up onto the branch or ducking under. He was waiting for something. Curious, I stretched up my neck to try for a better view.

   A second head appeared from behind the branch. Now Ruga jumped up to perch on the surface of the tree. The second face was instantly recognisable, but he was not quite how I remembered.

   I started to approach them with great anticipation, when Pluk called, “Pluk faster than Ruga and Taku!”

   He wasn’t. He pulled himself up onto Ruga’s tree with great effort. His legs came into view covered in casts and bandages stretching up to his waist. He moved with a painful stiffness, and a sluggishness which presumed his complete inability to surpass a slow walk.

   “Welcome back, Pluk,” I said to my crippled friend. “I have missed you very much.”

   He waved, and despite all that afflicted him, his smile was unrestricted and bright. His spirit would not be wavered by mere smashed legs. “Miss Taku, too!”

   I made my way to his side and assessed. “So you still think you are faster than Taku and Ruga?”

   “Always!” He barked giddily.

   “Well, shall we find out?” I said with a glance to Ruga. “Let’s race back home.”

   Ruga and I took an arm each, and together we heaved Pluk along, with intent of taking him all the way back home. He would win, of course. He always did.

   I was happy to come in second place.


End file.
